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P. 165. 


IN MOTHER’S PLACE 

OR, 

THE JAY FAMILY. 


BY 


y 

KATE NEELY FESTETITS, 


Author of “ The Flower Mission “ From Post to Pillar ,” 
“ The Old Academy ,” “ Irmaf “ Leslie 
Rossiter,” etc. y etc.> etc. 



“ As thy days, so shall thy strength be.” 

Deut. 33, 25. 


rtgRW CF 

v coPYH/a^e^ 

^UG 31 1892 

& S i ^05* 

PHILADELPHIA: 

THE AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION, 3 / j 

1122 Chestnut Street; 

New York: 8 & 10 bible house. 


<< 


v 

K 


To My Dear Sister Sue: 

The Only Mother 
Of My Motherless Girlhood, 

This Story of a Sister’s Devotion, 

Is Affectionately Inscribed by 

The Author. 


[Copyright, 1892, by The American Sunday-School Union.] 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

I. THE JAY FAMILY 5 

II. JOCELYN MAKES A BEGINNING. . . 27 

III. A DAY OF IT 45 

IY. COMING AND GOING. ..... 76 

V. A MYSTERY 96 

YI. THE MYSTERY UNRAVELLED. . . 121 

VII. JOCELYN HAS HER SAY. .... 143 

VIII. A LESSON FOR JULIET 176 

IX. OUT OF THE MESHES 233 

X. WHICH SHALL IT BE? 259 

XI. HELP IN TIME OF NEED 289 

XII. JOE’S SAD ESCAPADE 310 

XIII. JOCELYN TELLS JOE SOMETHING. . 342 

XIV. A HAPPY THANKSGIVING 351 


( 3 ) 



IN MOTHER’S PLACE. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE JAY FAMILY. 

~VTOT that their name was Jay, by any means, 
-L-' for the family surname was Jerome ; it 
was only a whimsical notion of the father, sug- 
gested by certain odd coincidences, which had 
caused the big brown cottage at the upper end 
of Main street to be known as “The Jay- 
birds’ Nest,” and its occupants to have won 
through all the country round the sobriquet 
of the “Jay Family.” 

When the first little fledgling came into the 
nest, and a name was to be chosen, the mother 
said to the father, 

“Why it must be Jocelyn, of course, after 
your mother ! ” 

And when a little sister came by and by to 
keep Jocelyn company, the father said to the 
mother, 


( 5 ) 


in mother’s place. 


“ Why she must be Juliet, after your good 
mother ! ” 

The boy who followed was “ Joe,” of course, 
since his father was Joseph ; and similarly, the 
next little daughter was Janet, since that was 
her gentle mother’s name. By this time it 
became a foregone conclusion that “ J.” was 
the initial letter of each and every member 
of the family ; and when two more little girls 
appeared in due succession, Mr. Jerome 
promptly decided that one was to be “Jemi- 
ma,” in honor of a certain bachelor uncle 
James, who had been very good to him in 
the way of tips when he was a school-boy ; 
and the little curly-headed, bewitching baby 
was to have the pretty name of “Jessica,” 
in compliment to a cousin of their moth- 
er’s, who lived in Washington and was the 
children’s special Santa Claus, Christmas 
after Christmas, as long as they could re- 
member. 

Mrs. Jerome was one of those sweet and 
sunny-natured women who never make opposi- 
tion unless it seems really unavoidable. She 
only laughed good-humoredly at her husband’s 
whimsical notion, and stipulated that a middle 
initial should be inserted in each little one’s 
name to avoid hopeless confusion in the matter 
of signatures, addresses, and the like, as they 


THE JAY FAMILY. 


7 


grew up : and so, as the wide old rambling 
house filled gradually with merry young in- 
mates, fluttering busily here and there, and 
making its brown walls echo with their chat- 
tering, it came to be known as the Jay-birds’ 
Nest. 

A very happy family they were on the 
whole, united in interest and affection ; de- 
voted to their parents, and attached to each 
other ; living a sweet, wholesome life, rich in 
all healthy activities and enjoyments ; and 
breathing a rare home atmosphere of love and 
comfort under the brooding care of their 
sunny-hearted mother. 

“ ‘ Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all 
her paths are peace;’ Why, that’s like you, 
mother ! ” broke out little Janet in a tone of 
wondering pleasure one day, as she sat spelling 
out her Sunday-school texts in her little chair 

by her mother’s side. And though Mrs. 

Jerome laughed and shook her head, exclaim- 
ing, “ Oh no, that is wisdom, my dear ! ” 
Janet was quietly convinced in her ow r n quaint 
little mind of the correctness of her own 
interpretation ; and only compromised to the 
extent of feeling sure that if the text really 
did refer to the thing called wisdom, then 

her mother must be wisdom personified, so 

exactly did the description suit her. And the 


8 in mother’s place. 

rest of the children would have agreed with 
Janet. 

For well nigh a score of long happy years 
the brooding mother-wing hovered over the 
peaceful nest ; and the nestlings, all but the 
latest fledgling, baby Jessie, were getting to 
be full-feathered and strong-pinioned : indeed 
there had been at times a vague hint afloat 
in the air that the eldest, the tall and digni- 
fied Jocelyn, might ere long be thinking of 
winging her flight from the parent nest to a 
tinier one of her own. When lo, or ever the 
poor birdlings were aware that danger hovered 
near, the brooding wing was tremblingly with- 
drawn, the guardian mother, obeying the sum- 
mons of the great All-father, had taken her 
flight heavenward, and the nest seemed left 
unto itself desolate. 

They had all — father as well as children — 
grown into such loving dependence upon the 
sweet and bright spirit which made perpetual 
sunshine in their home, that when her loving 
eyes had closed, her cheery smile faded, it 
seemed as though the light had vanished for- 
ever from their lives, and that henceforth 
they were to sit in darkness and the shadow of 
death. 

“May God help you! I don’t know what is 
to become of you, my poor motherless chil- 


THE JAY FAMILY. 


9 


dren !” their father had cried in the anguish of 
his soul, as they entered together, after leaving 
their beloved form in her last resting-place, the 
open door where never again would she stand 
to greet them with her welcoming smile. 

“ Do what you can for them, Jocelyn ; it is 
to you we shall have to look now, child, to 
take her place, and may the Lord have mercy 
on us all ! ” 

He plunged into the darkness of the close- 
shut library as he uttered this heart-broken 
appeal; and the children gathered about their 
elder sister, crying, and trying to get as close 
to her as possible. 

Poor girl ! she felt in her quivering heart that 
she needed a mother herself almost as much as 
any of them, woman grown though she was; 
and the sudden sense of responsibility thus laid 
upon her came with almost appalling weight. 

“ She 4 take her mother’s place ! ’ Who in 
all the wide world could do that?” 

But the pitiful sound of young things weep- 
ing, startled her into instant effort. She made 
a strenuous struggle to gain a semblance of 
composure, and putting out her arms she drew 
her little sisters close to her trembling breast. 
They clung to her as to a welcome refuge, 
Jemima and Janet; Joe stood a little apart, 
knotting his features strangely, and hugging 


10 


IN mother’s place. 


his breast tight to keep back the sobs which he 
thought not manly enough for his fourteen 
years. His sister made room for him too, 
within the comforting circle of her arm. 

“ Come,” she said, her tender, tremulous voice, 
trying bravely to steady itself. “ Come, dears, 
let us try to do just as we know she would like 
to have us ; just as if we felt she was near us 
and could see us. Let us go and light the 
lamp and brighten the fire and have supper.” 

Would they ever “have supper” again in the 
old cosy fashion, seasoning the simple dishes 
with laugh and chatter, each one bringing some 
tale of the day’s doings to swell the general 
store of household talk, sure of interest and 
sympathy from all the others! Well, — sh§ 
could only try ! — 

“ A cup of tea will do father good,” she went 
on ; “and afterward, we will try to do just the 
old pleasant things. We will get out the books 
and games ; I will read you a story, or play for 
you and we will sing. Come ” 

And they went with her readily as she led 
the way to the sitting-room, feeling already a 
little comforted; a little as though there were 
still some household centre of strength and 
cheer such as young hearts need to gather 
round. 

Not so Juliet, the girl next in age to the 


THE JAY FAMILY. 


11 


elder sister. She had got out of the carriage 
and entered the empty house with the others ; 
was one of the group standing irresolutely in 
the hall when her father made that piteous 
appeal to his eldest daughter on behalf of the 
others; and her young heart had swelled as she 
heard it with a jealous sense of being over- 
looked, or underrated. 

“ Why couldn’t he have asked me to help, 
too?” she said to herself, giving way to wounded 
feeling. “I am not a child any longer; I am 
nearly sixteen years old; and I think I have 
quite as much sense in many ways as Jocelyn. 
I know mother used to trust me with a good 
many things, and say she relied on me for 
them. But I see how it is going to be now’: as 
if it wouldn’t be miserable enough anyhow with 
her gone! Jocelyn is going to rule everybody, 
and father’s just lost enough without mother to 
let her do it. Very well: she may manage the 
others as much as they’ll let her ; I’m old 
enough to manage for myself.” 

She turned her eyes away from the wistful 
glance with which her sister had sought to 
include her in her proposal, resolutely declining 
to defer to what she chose to consider an 
authoritative suggestion. 

“ Why should she think it necessary to invite 
us into our own home-room, where we belong as 


12 


in mother’s place. 


much as she does ? The idea of reading story- 
books, and playing and singing, anyhow, the 
very day poor mother is laid in her grave ! I 
don’t see how they can be so heartless ! I 
shall go up to my own room and think about 
her; it’s all the comfort there is left to me 
now ! ” 

Her dark eyes filled with tears of grief and 
pain as she turned aside from the others and 
took her solitary way up the broad, shallow 
flight of stairs which had always been a favor- 
ite romping-place in the old happy days. She 
did not keep on up to her own room as she had 
at first intended, but pausing at the landing 
upon which her mother’s chamber opened, she 
stood listening for a moment, then entered 
softly and closed the door behind her. 

“ They are all down-stairs — trying to forget. 
I shall have it to myself — to remember — for 
awhile, anyhow.” 

She glanced about her in the shadowy 
room ; her eyes turning from one to another 
dear familiar object ; the big rocking-chair by 
the window, where her mother sat and sewed, 
singing softly snatches of old fashioned hymns 
over her work, and looking up with a quick 
smile and word as the children came and went 
about her ; at the dressing-table, where moth- 
er’s bay-water and rose-glycerine, yes, even her 


THE JAY FAMILY. 


13 


handkerchief-box and comb-case, were at the 
service, in case of need, of her less provident 
girls; at the bed, with its faint suggestion of 
lavendered linen, on which she had seen the 
dear form lying white and straight and silent 
never more to meet eager look and speech with 
answering smile and word. 

This last sight was too much for the poor 
girl’s self-control: she forgot all jealousy, all 
injured feeling in the overwhelming sense of 
loss and grief : “ O God, what shall we do 

without her ? O God, help us to bear it ! ” 
she prayed in an agony of love and sorrow, 
and sinking upon the floor beside the straight 
white bed, she buried her head in her hands, 
and let all his waves and billows come over 
her. 

Meanwhile, down in the family room below 
the elder sister, quite unconscious that she was 
the cause, however indirectly, of adding a fresh 
sting to the younger’s suffering, was bravely 
doing her best to “ have things as she would 
have had them.” The fire was brightened until 
the shadows were lost in its ruddy glow ; the 
lamp upon the round table shed a soft lustre 
through its rose -colored shade ; the books and 
magazines which had been laid away in that 
awful orderliness which belongs to funeral prep- 
arations, were scattered once more in comfortable 


14 


in mother’s place. 


^fashion over the crimson cloth; and “ I have an 
idea,” said Jocelyn cheerfully. 

“ Suppose we bring a tray in here with some 
cups and plates — the fire is so low in the din- 
ing-room, it seems chilly there — and have a 
sort of picnic supper this evening? Don’t you 
think it would be nice, children ? Who will 
help me?” 

“ Oh ! too much trouble,” growled Joe out of 
the depths of his father’s easy chair, into which 
he had huddled himself and sat staring gloomily 
into the fire. “ Who wants any, anyhow ? ” 

Janet lifted her big brown eyes for a moment 
from the book in which she had lost herself — 
Janet was usually lost in the pages of some 
fascinating book or other — and dropped them 
again with a little reluctant movement; but 
Jemima said promptly, 

“ Oh yes, anything for a change ! I’ll help 
you, Jocelyn, and then Aunt Peggy can’t make 
a fuss about the ‘bother.’ We’ll make some 
rolls of thin bread and butter, and cut some 
ham — ” 

“And get out some fig-preserves then,” 
sounded the gruff voice from the big chair by 
the fire. “ And mind you don’t eat ’em all up 
yourself, Jem.” 

“ No indeed ; we ’ll remember your sweet 
tooth, Joe, won’t we Jocelyn?” rejoined his 


THE JAY FAMILY. 


15 


sister good naturedly, pleased at the prospect 
of a little cheerful bustle. Jem was of a lively 
and active disposition, and grew restless and 
nervous under long repression. 

“ We’ll even let him have some cream for his 
figs, if we can coax Aunt Peggy, poor fellow. 
Come ahead, Jocelyn ! ” 

The elder sister put her arm affectionately 
around the little eager figure, and they took 
their way together out through the colonnade 
into the kitchen. Aunt Peggy, the old colored 
servant who had lived with the family ever since 
the girls could remember, was sitting there in a 
low splint-bottomed rocker in front of the 
stove, moving slowly to and fro, her withered 
brown face set in dark lines of grief and trouble. 
She did not rise when the young ladies entered, 
but sat bolt upright in her chair, turning the 
whites of her eyes toward them with a furtive, 
half-defiant glance, and waiting for them to 
speak first. 

“Mebbe dese yere young folks won’t want to 
keep old Peggy no longer,” she was thinking in 
her suspicious old soul. “ Want a spry young 
’oman, kin fly ’roun faster, an’ do mo’ wuk, 
kase dey ain’t got deir mudder now to h’ep. 
Well ! dey kin git her den, fall ole Peggy keers. 
Dish yer Jay family ain’t gwine be de same no- 
how, now Missus is gone. Dunno wha’ foh de 


16 


in mother’s place. 


heben’y Marster didn’ take Peggy ’stid o’ dat 
sweet angel anyhow. Leabe her heah fo’ dese 
yere young uns to awdah roun’; she too ole dog 
to learn new tricks dis time o’ day.” 

Jem’s quick eyes glanced curiously at the 
old servant, and then at her new young mis- 
tress, but Jocelyn did not seem to observe any- 
thing singular. 

“ Poor old soul ! ” she was saying to herself 
as she advanced toward the middle of the 
kitchen; “She is missing her too!” and her 
voice was very gentle as she called 

“ Peggy ! ” 

The old woman started. It was the first 
time one of the “ ehillun ” had ever left off 
the prefix of “aunt,” usually accorded by 
young people to old colored retainers. The 
omission was purely accidental on Jocelyn’s 
part, but it was perhaps a fortunate accident 
just at that crisis ; for it seemed to convey to 
the old servant’s mind an instantaneous convic- 
tion that here was her mistress, and brought a 
curious comforting sense of re-settlement in 
her own former position to her mind. 

She was on her feet in a moment. “ Laws 
honey, you started me, speakin’ so like yer 
maw,” she said in the familiar, respectful tone 
she had been in the habit of using to her late 
mistress. “ What is it ye want, Miss Jos’lyn ? 


THE JAY FAMILY. 


17 


Dichi’ know wheddah you uns felt like suppah 
o’ no, dis evenin’. Do you good to eat sumfin’, 
dough.” 

“I want my father to have a cup of tea,” 
said Jocelyn, speaking in a quiet, controlled 
voice. “ See that the kettle boils, please, and 
make him a bit of toast. Miss Jem and I will 
get what the rest of us want ; ” and she moved 
toward the pantry with the quiet air of one who 
“ belonged.” 

The old servant sent an odd glance after the 
young lady’s retreating figure. 

“Miss Jem ! ” she repeated to herself with a 
sort of inward sniff. “ Her mudder nevah 
axed me to ‘ miss ’ none on ’em ’cept de oldest. 
Well! ole Peggy don’ keer; it’s allee same to 
her.”/ 

Jem was really more excited about it. 

“ Why Jocelyn ! ” she exclaimed under her 
- breath, as she followed her sister into the pan- 
try, “ Is Aunt Peggy really to call us all 
‘Miss’ now? My! how big it will make us 
feel ! ” 

“ Well, you are all of you getting to be great 
girls,” said Jocelyn gravely. “ And you know 
the real authority in the house is gone now, 
Jem, and it will not be easy for me to keep 
everything straight and smooth unless you all 
help. And I think it would help to keep 


18 IN mother’s place. 

Aunt Peggy in her place, not to look upon 
you all as mere children. Of course, mother 
didn’t care to make any change — she has been 
with us all since we were babies — but I think 
now it will be just as well.” 

“ Oh, I think it will be a great deal better ! ” 
said Jem, approvingly. 44 I was getting pretty 
tired of her being so bumptious with me ; every - 
time I went into the kitchen, it was ‘Do cl’ar 
outen heah ! you chillun is alwuz unner my 
feet. G’long up stairs an’ play de pianner ; 
white folks got no bizness in de kitchen ! ’ I 
used to tell mother, but mother said Aunt 
Peggy had nursed me once through the scarlet 
fever when she couldn’t take care of me her- 
self on account of the baby ; and that I mustn’t 
mind, and not bother her. And now just look 
at me here, fussing round in the pantry, just as 
I like, and she not opening her mouth ! ” 

“But you mustn’t 4 fuss round’, nor be 
4 bumptious,’ yourself, — I don’t think those 
are very nice expressions ; do you, dear ? Nor 
go into the store room unless I am with you, or 
send you, Jem. We must try and do things as 
nearly as possible as she did them ; and when 
you are old enough, I will take you into the 
kitchen and teach you things, just as she did 
me. And I don’t think Aunt Peggy will speak 
to you in just that way any more now she is 


THE JAY FAMILY. 


19 


gone — but we must try not to upset her. 
She’s a faithful old soul ; and she loved our 
mother, and mother had a warm feeling 
for her. I know she meant she should always 
stay with us, and we’d find it hard to fill her 
place. So we must all be careful. Now, dear, 
I think we have spread enough slices. Do you 
think you can roll them up without breaking ? ” 

“ Oh yes ! mother used often to let me help 
her. She used to say my fingers were cleverer 
than my head, but that there was need in the 
world for that sort as well as the other. Now 
you, Jocelyn, you must be one of the clever 
heads, to think out every thing so, all at 
once ” 

“ And do you take it my fingers must be pro- 
portionately stupid ? ” rejoined her sister with a 
little fleeting flush and smile. “I hope not, 
Jem, for oh, I do want to try to have things as 
she used to, and I do hope you will all help 
me ! ” 

“ De kittle’s bilin’, Miss Jocelyn,” announced 
Aunt Peggy at this moment. “ Shill I make de 
tea, an’ kyar it in to yer pa ? ” 

“ No. You can set it to draw and I’ll come 
and take it to him myself. You may skim a lit- 
tle cream for me, Aunt Peggy, into this little 
pitcher ; there’ll be enough left for coffee in the 
morning.” 


20 


[in mother’s place. 

The old negress rolled the white of her eyes 
at her in her curious fashion ; but Jocelyn went 
on composedly, “ Aren’t you almost ready 
now, Jem? I have got the figs Joe wanted. 
You take the small tray, and I’ll carry the one 
with the cups and plates ” 

“ No’m you won’t do no sich a thing, if you 
please,” objected Aunt Peggy in her most de- 
cided tone. “I’ll jess take dat ar tray in 
mys’ef ; it’s too hebby fo’ dem little white hail’s 
o’ yourn. You jess git along ahead, outen my 
way, please, ‘ Miss ’ Jem ; an’ you go in an’ sit 
down, Miss Jos’lyn, honey, an’ I’ll bring you 
de cream in a minnit. You ‘have yo’se’f jess 
like Missus, and ole Peggy wait on ye jess like 
she done on Missus. Dah, now ; jess git along’ 
bofe of ye.” 

“Humph! she's settled!” commented Jem 
in an undertone, with a nod of her shrewd little 
head. “ Takes you, Jocelyn ! ” 

Her sister gave a little half-smile. She too 
was feeling relieved ; she had had a certain 
unacknowledged dread of her first assump- 
tion of the character of mistress with Aunt 
^eggy- 

“ Who will go and ask Juliet to come down?” 
she asked now. “You, Janet; Jem has been 
helping me.” Janet looked up dreamily from 
her book, and prepared to obey at her leisure ; 


THE JAY FAMILY, 


21 


but Jemima broke in in her wonted eager 
fashion : 

“ Oh no, never mind, Janet: just try and get 
back from dreamland so as to eat your own 
supper. I'll call Jule ” 

And away she went up-stairs, her active 
young limbs much preferring movement to 
rest. 

But when she reached the landing upon 
which the door of her mother’s room opened, 
she paused, suddenly overtaken by childish 
dread. No one had thought to light the hall- 
lamp yet; the staircase was in twilight and 
dimly peopled with shadows from the waving 
branches outside the window ; Jemima’s brisk 
steps were checked by a feeling of nameless awe, 
and standing at the head of the stairs she called 
in a hushed voice, 

“ Juliet ! Where are you ? ” 

There was a sound of movement, in the si- 
lence on the other side of the closed door, and 
the next moment it opened, and the older girl 
appeared upon the threshhold with pale face and 
disordered hair. 

“Why Juliet /” exclaimed the child in an 
awed whisper; “Are you in that room — all by 
yourself ! ” 

“ And why not ? In mother s room ? Why 
Jemima, what do you mean? ” 


22 IN mother’s place. 

But you know they say — I’ve heard Aunt 
Peggy tell — ” the little girl paused, abashed. 

“ Aunt Peggy has no business talking, and 
you no business listening, to anything that 
would make you feel so about going into that 
room,” rejoined her sister severely. “ Why Je- 
mima, I am ashamed of you ! Suppose mother 
were here this minute, suppose God would let 
her come back, do you think it could be for 
anything but good for us, for her own dear 
children ? 

“ I only wish he would let her come back, let 
her be near us every hour of the day and the 
night, to be our guardian angel as she always 
was ! We shall need her sorely enough ! ” 

The sorrowful young voice broke into a sob, 
and Jemima hastened to create a diversion. 

“Well, come down anyhow, Jule, and get 
some supper, or you’ll have a headache. Joce- 
lyn and I have fixed everything so nice, — and 
oh, Jule ! I tell you ! Jocelyn’s going to be 
mistress in real good earnest. She just knows 
how. Aunt Peggy was all ready to be as stiff 
as, as anything ! but Jocelyn limbered her 
down just as easy ! And we’ve got preserved 
figs and cream, and I'll get you a piece of hot 
toast and a cup of tea, if you want it.” 

The young girl drew herself back, and an- 
swered in a tone of chill rebuke : 


THE JAY FAMILY. 


23 


“I don’t want anything, thank you. I 
can’t think about eating and drinking just 
yet, Jemima. I wonder at you all — but of 
course ” 

She checked herself abruptly, and Jem, al- 
though the soul of good nature, felt impelled to 
answer a little aggressively : 

“ Now see here, Jule,” she said in her shrewd 
little way; “ As Aunt Peggy says, ‘the pot 
mustn’t call the kettle black.’ Even if we were 
what you seem to think — and we’re not, we’re 
trying to do for the best — it wouldn’t be any 
worse than for you to be jealous — of Jocelyn.” 

Her sister started as if she had received a 
blow. 

“ What — what do you mean ? ” she almost 
gasped in a passionate undertone. 

“ Oh — nothing. Only I happened to be look- 
ing at you when father said — said that — to 
Jocelyn,” stammered the little girl, half fright- 
ened at her own boldness. “But there, Jule, 
for mercy’s sake, don’t begin having any of your 
high-tragics just as soon as poor mother is gone. 
Do come down-stairs and try to make things 
cheerful like the rest of us ” 

“ Cheerful ! ” repeated her sister in a voice 
full of bitterness and pain, and turning back 
into the silent chamber, without another word, 
she closed the door behind her. 


24 


IN mother’s place. 


“ Jealous — of one sister ! Accused of it by 
another ! ” she cried inly, throwing herself 
again on her knees beside the beloved empty 
bed. “ O, heavenly Father, is it true ? Make 
me know it, if it is ! ” 

Below in the hushed and darkened study, 
another heart was wrestling in prayer for resig- 
nation, for strength, The bereaved husband, 
the anxious father, sat there alone, his arms 
folded upon the table, his head bowed upon 
them ; his heart aching with a longing that would 
not be eased for the dear companion, who at 
this hour was wont to make the dusky room with 
its shelves filled with rows upon rows of dingy 
law-books, alight and alive with her cheery 
presence. He had not besought in vain the 
help of the heavenly Father. 

“ Thy will be done ! ” Jocelyn heard him 
breathe in a long deep sigh as she stood with 
her little white-napkinned tray at his door. 

It brought the tears that lay longing to be 
shed in her tender gray eyes, and Jemima see- 
ing these tears, as she came hurrying toward 
her, eager to tell how Juliet thought them all 
heartless, and had refused to join them, had 
wit enough not to speak just then, but slip back 
again to the sitting-room, and expend her ener- 
gies in serving their supper to Janet and Joe. 

Jocelyn meanwhile entered the study at her 


THE JAY FAMILY. 


25 


father’s hoarse, “ Come in ; ” and groping her 
way through the dusk to the table, set down 
her tray. 

“ You mustn’t sit here in the dark, father,” 
she said in a gentle, womanly tone, feeling on 
the mantel-shelf for the match-box, and light* 
ing the lamp with her mother’s own dextrous 
fingers. “I have brought you a cup of nice 
hot tea, and I want you to drink it. You will, 
won’t you, because I want you to ? ” she coaxed, 
almost wondering at herself the while, at the 
ease with which the familiar tone she had never 
thought of using with this grave dignified 
father, came to her now that she saw him alone 
and crushed with grief. 

It fell soothingly upon the ear and heart of 
the desolate man, accustomed as he was to his 
wife’s unfailing kindliness, and he lifted his 
heavy eyes with a look of appreciation toward 
his daughter. 

“ Thank you, my dear,” he said with an effort. 
“I will try; yes, because you wish me to;” but 
here the deep voice faltered, and Jocelyn, feel- 
ing instinctively that he would be better able to 
comply with her wish alone, bent down silently, 
touched his forehead with her trembling lips, 
and made her way softly out of the room. 

She stopped in the hall to light the lamp 
there, and to compose her agitated face before 


26 


in mother’s place. 


entering the sitting-room where the young folks 
were awaiting her. Jemima jumped up to give 
her a seat. 

“Jule doesn’t want any supper just now,” 
she said in her bustling way. “ But I’m going 
to take some ginger snaps up to her room when 
I go up to bed. J ule likes ginger snaps.” 

“And she doesn’t like to be called ‘ Jule’ ” 
suggested Jocelyn with a little smile of re- 
minder. 

“Oh, I know she don’t. It’s all nonsense 
though. Oh, here comes Jessie, 1 do believe, 
waked up at last! ” and Jemima who didn’t like 
anything she did to be objected to, hurried to 
open the door as the sound of a childish voice 
was heard in the hall. 

A pretty little girl of three years broke away 
from her nurse’s hand and ran into the midst 
of the group. She stood for a moment, gazing 
from one to another, her big blue eyes wide 
with trouble. 

“I want my mamma!” she cried piteousty, 
and then turning suddenly toward her eldest 
sister, buried her lfead in Jocelyn’s outstretched 
arms. 

“ That’s right, little dear,” said Jemima, 
“Jocelyn is mamma now to all of us! ” 


CHAPTER II. 


JOCELYN MAKES A BEGINNING. 

RE we to go school to-day, father?” in- 



quired Jemima as they were sitting at 
breakfast next morning. Jemima was alwa}'S 
the first to ask questions. 

“ Of course; why not? What’s the good 
of moping round the house?” growled Joe, 
without waiting for his father to reply. 

“Well now Joe, I didn’t ask you, you don’t 
understand about things,” rejoined his sister 
sagely. “It is for papa to say whether we 
ought to go or not. Shall we father? ” 

“What, what is it?” demanded Mr. Jerome 
hastity, lowering the morning paper behind 
which he was making believe to eat, and glanc- 
ing nervously round at the circle of questioning 
faces. “ Whether you should go to school to- 
day or not? I — I don’t know, Jocelyn, what 
do you say? You women ought to know best 
about these things. Do as you think — as you 
think best; and you, children, do as she tells 
you. I must be going, myself. I want to be 
at the office early this morning,” he added in a 


( 27 ) 


28 


IN mothek’s place. 


confused way, and putting his coffee-cup to 
his lips, he drained it at one draught, and push- 
ing back his chair abruptly, left the room. 

“There now!” said Joe, in the gruff voice 
with which the poor boy tried to hide his share 
of the general trouble; “you’ve driven him off 
without his breakfast, you magpie. Why 
couldn’t you have kept quiet, and just gone 
along to school as if you had some sense ? ” 

“ I’m not a magpie. I’m a jay just like your- 
self,” retorted Jemima. “Indeed, I’m awful 
sorry, but papa was only making believe to eat 
anyhow; I guess he was glad to get away. 
And besides, Joe, I don’t know whether we are 
to go or not. Are we, Jocelyn?” 

“JT am not, most certainly,” announced 
Juliet’s decided voice, while her older sister 
was considering the matter with a distressed face. 
“ I don’t choose to give people the chance to 
be staring and whispering and asking questions 
the very day after ” 

Her voice broke, the color. flushed up into 
her clear brown cheek ; she lowered her dark 
deep-set eyes to hide the sudden softness that 
gathered in them. 

Jocelyn made an effort to speak with com- 
posure. 

“ You shall do just as you feel about it your- 
self, dear,” she said kindly in an undertone to 


JOCELYN MAKES A BEGINNING. 29 

Juliet who was sitting near her; then to the 
other girls, “ I think perhaps you had better 
go, you little ones,” she said. “ It has got to 

begin sometime ” here her voice faltered, 

but she controlled it. “ And to-day is as well 
as another. Every one will be kind, of course, 
and you have been unsettled long enough.” 

“All right,” acquiesced Jemima easily; she 
preferred, on the whole, to be up and about in 
the old busy fashion. But Janet demurred. 
She did not like to be busy; she did not enjoy 
school; she loved to hide herself in the depths 
of a great easy chair in a quiet room, and read 
or dream over a book. 

“I don’t see why I should go if Juliet 
needn’t,” she protested plaintively. “If you 
are going to show partiality, Jocelyn — mother 

always treated us all alike ” she checked 

herself at sight of the white quivering pain that 
ran over her sister’s face. 

“Oh! don’t Janet, please,” almost entreated 
poor Jocelyn, feeling as if she could scarcely 
bear any more. Oh, if only that precious 
mother were here again ! How should she ever 
make herself fill her place to all these different 
natures ? 

“ I shall not show partiality, I shall not feel 
any; don’t you know that? But you must let 
me use my judgment sometimes; Juliet is 


30 


in mother’s place. 


older. But you and Jem, — do you think it 
would be quite kind for you to let Jem go 
alone ? ” 

“Why can’t she stay at home then?” per- 
sisted plaintive Janet; “but never mind, Joce- 
lyn, to please you ” 

“Yes, and to please me, old Janie,” inter- 
posed Jem in her brisk, good natured way. 
“ I didn’t think you’d go back on me — *t isn’t 
like you. Come on now, let’s get our books 
and things, or it’ll be nine o’clock before we 
get there. I believe you’ll like to see the girls 
again after all ! ” 

“ And I will put up your lunch for you while 
you are getting ready,” said Jocelyn, giving 
them a little tremulous smile, and beginning 
assiduously to cut sandwiches. 

“ Humph ! ” muttered Joe who was strapping 
his books in the corner. “ A fellow is likely to 
have a nice time in the house with a lot of girls, 
if they’re going on like this every day. Well, 
good-bye to you,” and he marched off with an 
odd look on his keen plain face, and without 
any lunch. Joe disdained to “ be nibbling at 
recess like a girl ; ” he preferred to skirmish 
with Aunt Peggy, and forage in the pantry 
when he came home. 

Juliet sat through all the bustle of departure, 
silent at her corner of the table, her clear-cut 


JOCELYN MAKES A BEGINNING. 


31 


features rigid as marble, her deep dark eyes 
fixed upon her plate ; her young breast aching 
with the stress of mingled painful feelings. 
This first day — she had taken it into her own 
hands — but what was she going to do with it — 
and what was it going to do with her ? She 
lifted her eyes presently and looked askance at 
her sister. What would the new house-mistress 
herself do? Jocelyn did not see the glance; 
she was busy taking off Jessie’s bib, and wiping 
her little sticky fingers. That done, she began 
to put together the china and silver, making 
preparations to wash it herself as had been her 
mother’s habit, while Aunt Peggy and Mahaly 
the “ second girl,” ate their own breakfast. 

“ Dessie h’lp you, Dottelyn,” exclaimed the 
little girl, slipping down from her chair, and 
beginning to gather up the napkins to put them 
away in their drawer. 

“ No, no, you’ll only hinder, not help,” inter- 
posed Juliet, rousing herself with an effort. 
“You run away and play, Jessie, and I’ll help 
with the breakfast things.” 

She attempted to take the napkins from the 
child’s hands, but Jessie resisted sturdily. 

“No, no,” she exclaimed; “do ’way, Duly; 
Dessie always help mamma ; Dessie doin’ to 
h’lp Dotty now ! ” 

There was the warning sound of possible tears 


82 


IN mother’s place. 


in the little excited voice, and her sister gave 
way to her with a look of vexation. 

“ Very well,” she said in an annoyed tone ; 
“help her then, if you think your help is better 
than mine ; and if she thinks so too. Only, for 
pity’s sake, do stop talking like a baby now 
you’re three years old and more, Jessie; it 
sounds so silly ! Suppose,” she added, turning 
to her older sister, “ since I am not wanted here, 
I go up and clear your things out of the bureau 
drawers. I suppose you will be moving down 
stairs — ” 

She stopped, with a sudden break in her 
voice, and Jocelyn looked at her with eyes full 
of starting tears. Oh ! these cruel details, 
these cold realities, which clipped the sore and 
sensitive hearts as in a vise ! 

Jocelyn waited a moment, struggling for coim 
posure ; as soon as she could speak quietly, she 
said, 

“If you will, Juliet. I’ll come up and help 
presently,” and the younger sister left the room 
without further words. 

But little Jessie caught the sound of tears in 
her voice, and came running to nestle her curly 
head up against her. 

“ Don’t ’ee ky, Dotty,” she said in her sweet 
coaxing voice, and using the infant-patois, which 
her mother, loath to lose her baby, had never 


JOCELYN MAKES A BEGINNING. 


33 


checked. “ Don’t ’ee ky, Dottelyn ; Dessie 
keep care o’ you now ; Dessie s’eep wi’ you in 
mamma’s bed. Mamma gone to heaven now, 
live wi’ de angels, an’ byme by we be angels 
too an’ go live wif her agen.” 

The little coaxing arms were about her neck, 
the rosy loving lips upon her cheek : poor 
Jocelyn’s forced composure gave way, and hid- 
ing her face in the sunny curls, she broke into 
uncontrollable weeping. Only for a moment, 
for now there began to be a sob in the little 
voice that begged, “ Don’t ee ky, Dottelyn ; 
make Dessie ky too ! Mamma never ky ! ” 
and the older sister hurriedly dried her tears, 
and made haste to comfort the little frightened 
soul. 

“ Dottelyn won’t cry any more either dar- 
ling,” she said, kissing away the tears starting 
in the blue eyes, “ Dottelyn will wash the cups 
and saucers right away, and you shall help her 
if you’re very careful. ” 

“ Yes, Dessie ’ll be velly careful,” said the 
little creature, lifting her head promptly, ready 
to begin : “ and Dessie ’ll be good an’ help you 
all day long ! ” 

The rainbow follows the rain very soon, thank 
heaven, in childish eyes ; and the little creature 
trotted happily to and fro, holding a cup or a 
saucer tight in her chubby little fingers, and 

3 


34 


IN mother’s place. 


Aunt Peggy, coming to the dining-room door 
for orders, stood watching her with a sort of 
twisted smile upon her ebony features. 

“ Hump ! ” she sniffed, after watching the 
child’s busy and important ways for a minute 
or two, “I wouldn’t feel of as much conse- 
kince as you dez ef I was president o’ de whole 
United States an de Confed’cy into de bahgin ! 
— Bettah look out fo’ dat ah chany, Miss Jos’lyn ; 
pride gwine suah befo’ a fall ! Well ! heah’s de 
mahketin’ books; what ye gwine have fo’ din- 
nah to-day ? ” 

Poor Jocelyn ! It was the first time she had 
chanced to be called upon to give the orders. 
An aunt of hers, a sister of her father, had 
been staying with them during the last sorrow- 
ful days, and had left for her own family only 
after the funeral. She had spared her niece 
the jarring household cares while she was there ; 
but now it behooved the young mistress to 
address herself to her own business and she 
found herself shrinking from it with timidity 
and reluctance. 

Jocelyn had never interested herself greatly 
in household matters. The busy, cheery mother 
was always there, with whom long habit had 
made housekeeping easy, and Peggy, like most 
old servants, was a little “difficult” under 
youthful authority. There was always a like- 


JOCELYN MAKES A BEGINNING. 35 

lihood of morning visitors dropping in, on their 
way home from shopping or marketing in this 
easy-going Virginia country-town, and some one 
must be hospitably ready to receive them. 
Moreover, there was always a supply of sewing 
on hand in such a family of school-girls, and 
Jocelyn had a clever “ knack ” at dressmaking. 

So while the young lady daughter busied 
herself with her sewing, her practicing, made 
and received calls, and kept up the course of 
“ Old English Authors ” with the young peo- 
ple’s “ Reading Club,” her mother had retained 
the housekeeping in her own capable hands; 
and Jocelyn found herself growing suddenly 
nervous at the thought of ordering dinner. 
What should she send for this morning? 

Roast beef ? That was a popular dish with 
most of the family, but she remembered Janet 
never ate it, and Janet was delicate, and ought 
to have meat. Leg of lamb? But that Juliet 
disliked. Poultry — she believed they all liked 
that, but poultry was scarce and expensive at 
this season. Beefsteak was always difficult, 
because some of them liked it very rare, and 
others very well done. How had her mother 
managed to suit all these various tastes ? 
thought poor Jocelyn in sore perplexity. She 
had managed it, she knew that, for she could 
not enjoy her own dinner unless the others 


86 


in mother’s place. 


were enjoying theirs, and whether it was quite 
wise or not, the indulgent mother had always 
lovingly catered to the several wants. 

“ It will take a little thought, and coaxing of 
Aunt Peggy, I suppose, but I shall try. I 
mean to do my best every way to make them 
comfortable, as she did.” 

A sudden thought occurred to her. She 
turned to Aunt Peggy, who stood waiting 
with a sort of grim resignation depicted upon 
her countenance : “ Ole Missus never keep her 
standin’ round dis way ; done range her dinner 
in her haid fo’ she come down in de mawnin ! ” 

“I think I’ll go to market myself, Aunt 
Peggy,” she said; the sad under-thought run- 
ning in her mind : “ The beginning has got to 
be made sometime. I might as well go out to- 
day as to-morrow ! ” 

“ Then I can see what they have,” she con- 
tinued, “and know better what to order.” 

The old colored woman’s stiff features re- 
laxed. 

“ Dat’s right, Miss Jos’lyn,” she vouchsafed 
to approve. “ Dat’s de only way to keep house 
fo’ sho. Go round to dem butchers and grocers 
yo’ self, an’ look sharp at what dey got, like 
you knowed better ’bout deir things dan dey 
do demselves, and keep ’em right up to de 
mark. Ef you kaint spare de time every 


JOCELYN MAKES A BEGINNING. 


3T 


mawnin, why, onct or twict a week will do ; 
kase dey keep pooty much de same things all 
de time, anyhow. An’ if you send ’em back 
two, th’ee times when dey try play tricks on 
ye, dat’ll settle ’em : dey’ll fine out you ain’t 
green ef you is young. Yo’ maw used to go 
to mahkit ev’y day, kine o’ joyed it ; tuk her 
outen de house an’ giv her de air. But 3m u ! 
laws ha’ massy ! You gwine have yo’ han’s 
full anyhow, Miss Joslyn, now she’s gone. 
Deed you is, honey ! ” 

The quick softness sprang to the young mis- 
tress’ eyes, and it was a moment or two before 
she said : 

“Yes, Aunt Peggy. But I have you to help 
me.” 

The drooping glance, the patient voice, the 
admission of reliance upon her, quite won the 
old negress’ heart, and put to flight any notion 
of “ stannin’ up fo’ her rights.” Her wrinkled 
brown face softened, and her tone was mellow 
and motherly as she answered heartily : 

“ Deed you is got me, honey, an’ I gwine see 
you safe thoo’ de wild’ness, please de Lawd. 
So don’t ye fret ’bout nothin’, an’ ran ’long 
now an’ git yo’ things on ; an’ you too, little 
Missy, you ax yo’ sistah let you go ’long too. 
She gwine be yo’ mammy now.” 


38 


in mother’s place. 


Jessie looked up with sparkling eyes. “ May 
I go, Dottelyn?” and Jocelyn said “yes.” 

Juliet glanced out of the window of her room 
up-stairs as she heard the front door open and 
shut, and saw her two sisters starting off on 
their expedition; little Jessie stepping along, 
holding up her skirts in jaunty fashion, and 
Jocelyn looking down into the happy little face 
with almost as bright an answering smile. 

“I wonder how they can ! ” she said bitterly 
to herself. “ It doesn't seem to me as if I could 
ever smile again ! ” and she went back with 
her young face pale and set to her work of 
clearing out and re-arranging the drawers of 
the bureau which hitherto she and Jocelyn had 
shared together. At another time, in other cir- 
cumstances, this would have been a task which 
Juliet would have enjoyed. She was unfor- 
tunately, of a rather jealous disposition, in- 
clined to look out with suspicious watchfulness 
for any encroachment of those superior rights 
which elder sister’s are sometimes apt to as- 
sume, and the younger equally quick to resent. 
She was very neat and orderly in all her ways, 
moreover, and had always coveted the posses- 
sion of a “ top-drawer ” all to herself; but now 
that this long-desired privilege had come to 
her, the manner and cause of its coming took 
all the exultation out of it. 


JOCELYN MAKES A BEGINNING. 


39 


Instead of the pleasure she would have sup- 
posed she should feel in having all the space 
she desired to lay out her various little boxes 
of ribbons and laces, her dainty handkerchief 
and glove cases, Christmas and birthday gifts 
from her girl-friends, she experienced, on the 
contrary, a strange disinclination to displace 
her sister’s pretty belongings ; an uncomfort- 
able feeling, as she lifted out of the drawer one 
after another of Jocelyn’s young lady posses- 
sions, almost as if Jocelyn herself were being 
taken away and put gut of her sight. She 
grew really nervous over the work presently, as 
a long evening glove happened to drop to the 
floor, and lay there with the shape of the plump 
arm and tapering fingers moulded in the deli- 
cate flesh-tinted kid. 

“ I don’t believe I’ll do another thing ! ” she 
said to herself excitedly ; “ I’ll wait till Jocelyn 
comes back, and let her move her things her- 
self. I feel, for all the world, as if I was mak- 
ing something happen to her ! ” and the girl, 
unnerved by her overwrought feelings, sat 
down abruptly upon a chair beside the window 
and bent her gaze down the long aspen-bor- 
dered street. “ I wish she’d come along home ! ” 
she went on in her thought, as if talking to some 
one near at hand. “ Suppose anything should 
happen to her? — But what foolishness! what 


40 


in mother’s place. 


should happen, pray, right here in town, on a 
bright morning like this ? ” 

And then there came into her consciousness a 
certain uneasy reflection : “ I needn’t have had 
such a mean thought when I saw her going out, 
as though I had so much finer and deeper feel- 
ings than she. I suppose she had to go — to 
market, or somewhere — and it was nice of her 
to take poor little Jessie along with her. How 
pleased the child looked ! Aud she was nice to 
me this morning about going to school. I sup- 
pose if she had objected to my staying, father 
would have told me I had better go. Just after 
I had interfered so about the children too. 
But it does come a little hard to have to mind 
your own sister, only three years older than your- 
self ! Oh dear ! I expect there’ll be many a hitch 
— and there won’t be any dear sweet mother to 
smoothe ’em all away so easily. Well — we 
must try ; I must try, and she must try. It’s 
going to be hard for us both ; for her to have to 
manage, and for me to have to be managed ! ” 
Her glance, upraised, wandered toward a 
pretty picture framed upon the wall ; an etch- 
ing of two girlish heads, bent smiling toward 
each other, and beneath, the inscription, 

“ Little children, love one another.” 

The mother had hung it there years ago, when 


JOCELYN MAKES A BEGINNING. 


41 


they were first promoted to this large upper 
chamber ; and a chance look at it had served 
her purpose many a time, of checking an incipi- 
ent dispute, or angry reproach ; and now, she 
being dead, it yet spoke. 

“So we will love one another,” said Juliet 
half aloud, almost as if answering an actual 
voice; “God helping us,” she added in the 
silence of her young heart, where a deep and 
strong religious feeling, inculcated from her 
earliest years, contested the ground with cer- 
tain stubborn natural tendencies and morbid 
growths. 

“ And I won’t be silly any longer, but go on 
with this work. Jocelyn will have enough to 
do, even after I have cleared out her things and 
taken them down-stairs. Heigho ! I don’t 
believe I shall be half as glad of a room to my- 
self as I thought I should. I shall miss her, I 
know, and the talks we used to have over 
things in bed. I wonder why people can’t ever 
be satisfied with things as they are ? Or is 
it only you, J. J., who are always discon- 
tented?” 

She got up from her chair, with another look 
down the leafless vista of gnarled old aspens, 
and addressed herself anew to her task of 
separating her sister’s possessions from her own, 
and placing them in convenient piles to be 


42 


in mother’s place. 


taken below. For Jocelyn in her sad new 
dignity as mistress of the house, was to be pro- 
moted to her mother’s room, so as to be within 
one flight of stairs from the housekeeping 
regions, while her father had arranged to oc^ 
cupy a smaller apartment on the same floor. 

“ I could not sleep there, without her,” he 
had urged when his daughter protested against 
dispossessing him, and had hurried into his 
study to escape further discussion ; so now the 
dear old familiar aspect of the room was to be 
more or less changed ; the sacred belongings 
of the mother were to be removed from bureau 
and table and closet, to be tenderly handled 
and laid reverently away as the most precious 
heritage of her children ; and the daughter, 
wistful, reluctant, full of tender tears, and brave 
smiles, and humble prayers for help and guid- 
ance, was to take the mother’s place as best she 
might ! 

She found Juliet busy, going up-stairs and 
down -stairs, with her arms full of things when 
she returned from her marketing with little 
Jessie. 

“ Oh, what’s you doin’, Du’let ? let me help 
you ; I want to carry somesin’ ; ” cried the 
sturdy little creature, not in the least tired with 
her expedition, and liking better to trot about 
than to sit still. 


JOCELYN MAKES A BEGINNING. 


43 


“ Oh no, you can’t ; you’ll only drop them,” 
objected Juliet impatiently, rather overwrought 
by all she had been thinking; and feeling as if 
it would be a sort of sacrilege to have any of 
these banished belongings run the risk of fall- 
ing on the floor. 

“No, I won’t drop ’em at all ! I can hold ’em 
just as tight! Mayn’t I, Dottelyn ?” appealed 
the child, and her sister hastened to say : 

“ Oh, I think Du’let will let you if you 
promise to be velly careful. Poor Du’let must 
be tired running up and down stairs with her 
arms full. Let me take those things from you, 
dear ” 

Her look and tone were so sweet and win- 
some that Juliet could not take offence at being 
overruled. Quick to err, she was as quick to 
repent, and she felt ashamed now of her lack of 
consideration for others. 

“ All right then,” she consented ; and Jocelyn 
added : 

“ Come up with us, and I’ll fill a little basket 
for you, so you won’t drop things.” 

“Jocelyn is more like mother after all than 
ever I shall be,” thought Juliet ruefully at 
this; and the thought helped to keep her 
patient and gentle all through the long morn- 
ing’s work when she and her sister continued 
to be busy long after little Jessie had given 


44 


IN mother’s place. 


up tired, and curled herself up on the lounge 
for a nap. 

When at length the loving sorrowful task 
was finished, the two sisters stood for a mo- 
ment, gazing wistfully around the altered 
room. They had brought the little picture down 
by mutual consent. 

“We will all gather in here as we used to,” 
said Jocelyn tenderly, “and it will help us.” 

Now as their glance fell upon it, they turned 
toward each other with a common impulse and 
threw their arms about each other’s shoulders. 

“O Juliet! O Jocelyn!” was all they 
said; but as the sound of the children’s voices 
coming home from school was heard below, the 
younger sister escaped up to her own room, 
feeling that for the present, at least, there was 
no jealousy of the elder in her heart. 


CHAPTER III. 


A DAY OF IT. 



ULIET decided to go to school herself the 


^ next morning. It cost her a struggle, for 
her sensitive and brooding nature especially dis- 
liked the thought of her appearance and conduct 
being noticed, and her feeling speculated upon 
at such a time. 

“Don’t I know how girls talk?” she said 
irritably to herself as she walked along, silent 
and repellant, beside quiet Janet and chatter- 
ing Jem. 

“ One will say 4 Poor thing ! doesn’t she bear 
it well ? ’ ” 

“ And another will answer, ‘ yes, so well, it 
hardly looks as if she minded it much.’ Oh, 
I’ve heard ’em,” and the pure proud curves of 
her face set themselves as rigidly as though 
chiselled in marble. 

“Mercy! Jule looks as if she had swallowed 
a ramrod, doesn’t she?” whispered Jem to 
Janet, as her sister’s tall, straight young figure 
passed stiffly before them up the school-house 
steps. “ What’s the use of looking as though a 


( 45 ) 


46 IN mother’s place. 

body were biting a file? Every one was just 
as sweet and kind as could be to us yesterday ; 
weren’t they ? ” 

“Juliet takes everything so hard,” observed 
Janet contemplatively : and indeed the rigid 
young censor found that she had been unduly 
suspicious of her mates. No one stared at her 
when she entered the school-room, or watched 
her with curious glances, nor could she detect 
any sign of critical comment. 

“Oh, there’s Juliet Jerome! I’m so glad 
she’s back again ! ” cried her desk-mate, pretty 
Margie Bland, jumping down from the window- 
seat upon which she was perched (for the nine 
o’clock bell had not sounded as yet), and run- 
ning to welcome her with a kiss. Others of 
her school-friends gathered around her, each 
with a pleasant, cordial greeting. Miss Brandon 
and Miss Clarissa Brandon, the two middle- 
aged sisters, representatives of an old family 
fallen into decayed fortunes since the “War,” 
who announced themselves in the circulars as 
“ Principal and Vice-principal of the Oakleigh 
Young Ladies’ Seminary,” each bestowed upon 
her a formal but affectionate salute; and she 
found herself slipping back into her accus- 
tomed place again as quietly as the wavelet re- 
sumes its regular flow after the displacement 
by a pebble. 


A DAY OF IT. 


47 


Books were produced ; a half dozen kindly 
hands offered to show where the lesson was, 
and the young girl found herself taking up life 
and its duties again in much the old fashion, 
notwithstanding the aching sense of loss that 
every now and then forced itself into the 
pauses of study and recitation. 

In the meanwhile, Jocelyn at home was divid- 
ing herself as best she could among the varied 
demands upon her time and attention. She had 
intended to go over the linen closet and china 
cupboards with Mahaly that morning, and in- 
form herself as to their contents; for she had’ 
scarcely a more accurate knowledge as to the 
number of sheets and pillow-cases, towels and 
napkins, in the house than did one of her sis- 
ters ; nor yet, how many pieces remained intact 
of the old blue china which had been her 
mother’s pride, and that of her mother before 
her. The rage for decoration had reached Oak- 
leigh, even in its out-of-the-world situation in 
the peninsula of Virginia; and Jocelyn had 
herself painted a set of cups and saucers in 
delicate imitation of the wild flowers and 
grasses that grew in the meadows all about the 
town, for her mother’s last birthday, and had 
sent them to Norfolk to be “ fired.” She knew 
of their well-being ; and that there were none 
missing, torn, or scorched, of the dozen fine 


48 


in mother’s place. 


damask napkins which she had saved her 
pocket-money to buy for her mother’s Christ- 
mas — only a couple of months ago ! — and had 
embroidered with such loving pride the family 
“J” in her very daintiest stitches. But she 
knew it behooved her now to possess a more ex- 
tended knowledge than this of the household 
stores, and she had planned to acquire it that 
day with Mahaly’s assistance. Fate however, 
in the shape of Aunt Peggy, and little Jessie 
intervened to obstruct this laudable purpose. 

“ Miss Jos'lyn,” said the old cook, appearing 
at the dining-room door with her head tied up, 
just as her young mistress was preparing to have 
Mahaly reach down the best dinner-service 
from the upper shelves of the corner-cupboard ; 
“We got cole meat for dinnah to-day, ye know, 
honey ; an’ yo’ maw she alwez ’lotted to have 
dessert on cole meat days. D'e chillen counts 
on it, an’ yo’ paw, he’s got a sweet tooth too, 
an’ he needs chirkin’ up like, po’ man. He 
cert’n’y do look down in de mouf, an I don’ 
know nuffin’ like one o’ yo’ maw’s mince pies 
to sot him up. But laws honey, I kaint roll 
out no past’y to-day, not ef my salvation 
’pended on it. I got de wus’ mis’ry in my haid 
evah I had since I was bawned. S’pose it’s 
jes’ speckilatin’ ’bout de ’sponsibility ’wolvin’ 
on me all suddent-like wi’ dis yer family ; but 


A DAY OF IT. 


49 


whah’ s’evah it is, it’s clar disobligated me, 
’deed it has, fo’ sho; an’ you’ll jes’ have to make 
de pie crust yo’se’f.” 

“ O dear, Aunt Peggy ! ” cried Jocelyn, turn- 
ing a dismayed look toward the mahogany coun- 
tenance, shining out brown and wrinkled from 
its white wrappings. “ But I don’t know how 
to make pie-crust ! I never made any in my 
life ; and I’m so busy to-day. Can’t we have a 
pudding, or a custard, or something like that, 
that’s easier made, and quicker ? ” 

“ H’mph ! ” snorted the old colored woman. 
“An’ dez ye know any mo’ ’bout puddins an’ 
custards dan you dez ’bout pie-crust, Miss 
Jos’lyn ? One’s jes’ as peticklah as de oddah, 
fo’ dey all depens on de jinin’ togeddah of de 
’gregences in de right way. An’ ye’ll nevah 
leahn de right way no youngah, Miss Jos’lyn. 
You come along out in de kitchen now,fo’ my 
haid gits to rippin’ an’ tearin’ any wuss, an’ 
I’ll show ye how to mix the dough, an’ roll it 
aout, an’ den any body what wa’n’t a natchel- 
bawn idjit could finish de pies. An’ dat-ah 
mince-meat ought to be eat up fo’ de weddah 
gits wahm. “Come along, Miss Jos'lyn.” 

“ Can’t— can’t } t ou make pastry, Mahaly ? ” 
The colored girl gave her head a little toss : 
“Ef aun’ Peggy wa’ant so pudjecky — ” she 
began, but the old woman interrupted her 

4 


50 


IN mother’s place. 


haughtily ; 44 Yes, but she is jes dat ah, an’ 
she don’ want none o’ yo’ projeckin’ roun’ her 
kitchen. You got all you can’ tend to with yo’ 
house-wuk an’ yo’ back ha’r.” 

“Now Miss Jos’lyn, don’t ye hear that ? ” re- 
joined the house-maid angrily, putting her 
hand up to the woolly knob into which she had 
succeeded in training her kinky black locks. 
“She’s always a-quarrelin’, aunt Peggy is; 
she can’t let nobody alone ; an’ she’s jest jeal- 
ous ’cause I wear my hair like white folks, and 
don’t talk like I was a corn-field nigger. But 
I wan’t never no slave, I’ll have her to know ! ” 

“You good-for-nothin’ sassy, impident yal- 
lah-gal ! ” Aunt Peggy started forward, her 
glossy dark face fairly quivering with wrath, 
but her young mistress interposed, lifting her 
hand with a gesture of authority. “ That will 
do, both of you,” in a tone of dignified rebuke, 
“I am surprised at you.” 

“Well, Miss Jos’lyn, you s’pose I ain’gwine- 
ter let that saddle-colored critter know ’at I’m 
as free as she, or any her ’lations dah to be ! ” 

44 You may be free in that sense, Peggy, but 
I’m afraid, you are both of you slaves to your 
tempers, and your self-opinion, and they are 
about as bad masters as any one can have. I 
should think you would be ashamed of your- 
selves, beginning this way, so soon ” 


A DAY OF IT. 


51 


The young lady’s voice trembled, and the 
old negress was instantly filled with compunc- 
tion. 

“ Dah den, dah den, honey,” she said, her 
angry tones mellowing, and speaking as the 
black nurses soothe a fretful baby. “ Don’ ye 
mine what sech as we-uns talk; ’cose we 
oughter be ’shame o’ ourse’ves, an’ cose we is 
too. You come along naow wi’ yer ole Aun’ 
Peggy, an’ you, Miss Mahaly Byrd, you jes git 
dat ah cedah piggin’ full o’ hot watah, an’ wash 
up dis yeh chany so’st Miss Jos’lyn can count 
it ’dout silin her pooty white fingahs, an’ mine 
you don’ break none of it, not so much as chip 
it de least little bit, kase if you do ” 

“There, never mind, Peggy; I’ll give Mahaly 
her orders,” interposed Jocelyn quietly, and the 
old servant, with a curious subdued air, yet 
flashing a sardonic glance out of her rolling 
white and black eyes over her shoulder toward 
the “yallah-gal,” walked out into the kitchen. 
Her young lady lingered a moment, “you will 
be very careful, Mahaly, won’t you,” she said, 
a little anxiously. “ You know my mother 

“ Laws, yes indeed, Miss Jocelyn, cert’ny I’ll 
be careful,” the girl hastened to assure her, in 
a very different tone from that she had pre- 
viously used. “ I know how much store your 


52 


in mother’s place. 


ma set by this here chiny, an’ I’m goin’ to 
handle it jest as if it was jooels. Don’t ye be 
afraid now ; and don’t ye mine what that old — 
what she says, I mean,” hastily checking her- 
self, and nodding her tightly-braided head 
toward the kitchen. 

“But I do mind it,” insisted Jocelyn, kindly 
but firmly. “ Do you suppose it is pleasant to 
me to think that such bickering is likely to be 
going on in any part of my household ? And 
is it respectful to me to quarrel in that way in 
my presence ? I am quite sure you would not 
have done so in my mother’s ; and it is my in- 
tention to have the family conducted in just 
the same orderly and pleasant way as she did. 
I should think you would prefer it too ; I 
should think you would rather help me than 
hinder me just now, when — when everything 
is coming upon me ” 

There was again the little threatened break 
in the sweet full voice, and the strong, self-opin- 
ionated young colored girl was moved to a cer- 
tain compassionate sympathy. 

“ And so I do want to help you, Miss Jos’- 
lyn, ’deed I do, all I can. Ole Aunt Peggy’s 
awful cantankerous, but I’ll try not to mind 
her, ’deed I will. An, as for you, Miss Jos’lyn, 
why you mustn’t be so-’fraid like of yourself. 
A great tall well-made smart young lady like 


A DAY OF IT. 


53 


you, why you can do anything. Why, you’re 
higher than your ma was a-reddy, and stout 
an’ strong, an’ quick enough to learn things, 
I’ll be bound, soon as ye set your hand to ’em. 
Just see how beautiful ye can sew, an’ em- 
broider an’ paint, an’ play on the piano, an’ all 
the likes o’ that ? Why shouldn’t ye learn to 
make pastry then, an’ everything else when you 
git your hand in ? Just don’t you be discour- 
aged now, Miss Jos’lyn, nor let that old — let 
Aunt Peggy, I mean, take on too many airs 
a-learnin’ ye, and you’ll see everything ’ll go 
on just as slick as it used to, in a little while. 
Don’t ye worry now about this chiny ; you’ll 
find it all safe and sound when you git ready 
to ’numerate it.” 

The young lady had stood listening to her with 
a little half-impatient smile at her handmaiden’s 
tone of pitying encouragement. But her sense 
of relief at finding that she was capable of mak- 
ing her authority promptly submitted to, and her 
appreciation of the really sympathetic feeling 
manifested for her, overcame her perception of 
the rather too-evident patronage. 

“ How blessed a thing it is,” she thought 
gladly, “that a ‘soft answer turneth away 
wrath.’ I suppose if I had scolded — but 
mother never scolded, and oh, I hope I never 
shall ! — And I do want these people to stay on 


54 


IN mother’s place. 


with us: I should hate to change anything 
of mother’s, and Aunt Peggy has been with 
us so long, and Mahaly is a good, competent 
girl, and I do think it is nice to have one’s 
servant stay with you, and get to be like part 
of the family.” 

She gave the young mulatto a smile from 
which the impatience had all gone, said “ very 
well then, Mahaly, I’ll trust them to you,” and 
proceeded with a composed mien, but a heart in- 
wardly apprehensive as a child’s, to make her 
first essay in that crucial test of the culinary 
art, pastry. 

Aunt Peggy was sitting in front of the stove 
when the young lady entered, nursing her 
“ neurology ” over the fire. She turned round 
upon her' stool with a grunt and said a little 
shortly, 

“ Well, I’m glad you got sliet o’ all dat pro- 
loguin’ an’ cum at last, Miss Jos’lyn. Dah’s 
de flou’ an de shawtnin’, buttah, an’ lahd, bofe I 
ginally uses — an’ a titch o’ yeast-powdah, an’ 
all de ingregences, I sot ’em all out on de table 
fo’ ye. I ’lowed ’twas bettah fo’ ye to learn to 
mix de dough, an’ evrythin, f’om de beginnin’. 
You jes take an’ stir a pinch o’ salt, an’ a pinch 
o’ bakin’-powdah in de middle o’ de flou’ ” 

“But how much is a ‘pinch’, Aunt Peggy?” 
demanded Jocelyn, laughing a little nervously. 


A DAY OF IT. 55 

“Your ‘pinch’ and mine might be different, 
mightn’t they ? ” 

The old woman chuckled. “Specs maybe 
my ole fum an’ fingah could pick up mor’n 
yourn,” she answered. “Well, den, a haffen a 
spoonful o’ salt an’ a even whole spoonful o’ 
powdah ; stir ’em aroun’ in de flou’, an’ den 
make a leetle hole in de pile, an ’ po ’ in a leetle 
ice-watah, few draps at a time ; some rubs paht 
o’ de shawtnin’ in fust, but I’ll back my pie-crust 
aginst anybody’s dis side o’ de bay anyhaow. 
Ole Gunnel Gyah’son, he uster say ” 

“ But Aunt Peggy, I can’t remember if you 
keep on telling so much at a time. Which shall 
I do — put in the shortening first or not, and 
how much? I’m in a hurry, you know.” 

The old cook gave a snort of mingled pain 
and vexation. 

“ Naow look a-hyeh, Miss Jos’lyn,” she said im- 
pressively; “ dey wan’t nevahno pie-crus’ fitten 
to eat made in a hurry. Yo’ maw could ha’ tole 
you dat, ef evah she’d ha’ undahtuk to teach ye. 
Fo’ de law, I dunno why she didn’ an’ you a 
great big growed young lady, mos’ ready to 
think about gittin’ marr’d, an’ havin’ a house 
o’ yo’ own to look artah ! ” 

Jocelyn turned severely toward the old serv- 
ant. 

“ That will do, Peggy,” she said. “ You will 


56 


IN mother’s place. 


be good enough not to criticise my mother to 
me — nor to yourself. There was plenty for 
both of us to do ; she divided it as she thought 
best, and ” 

“ Laws, Miss Jos’lyn, I ain’t a-thinkin’ o’ 
findin’ fault with nobody, least o’ all with yo’ 
deah maw ; on’y, honey, if you wants to make 
good pastry you mus’ take yo’ time ” 

“ Take her time to what, Aunt Peggy?” 

Little Jessie came running into the kitchen 
with an aggrieved countenance. “ Where you 
bin, Dottelyn ? Dessie look for you every- 
where ; couldn’t find you at all. Oh,” with a 
sudden brightening of the little clouded face ; 
“ goin’ to make pies ? Let Dessie help you ; 
give Dessie some mince-meat ; mamma used to.” 

“ Did she ? ” asked her sister rather doubt- 
fully. “ Seems to me it’s rather rich for you, 
little girl. But if I give a little, will you be 
right good and quiet and let me go on with my 
work? ” 

“ Yes, Dessie be good,” assented the little 
one, graciously, and Jocelyn set her up in a 
chair beside the table, and gave her a spoonful 
of mince-meat in a saucer, first picking out the 
bits of suet carefully. 

“ I guess just the fruit and meat won’t hurt 
her, she’s such a sturdy little thing,” she said, 
half questioningly to Aunt Peggy ; but the 


A DAY OF IT. 


57 


old woman only sniffed again and muttered 
“Kitchen ain’t no place fo’ chillen, nohow. 
Mine, naow — not too much buttah, Miss Joce- 
lyn, makes it tough. An’ ye wants to spread it 
on smoove with a cold knife.” 

By this time Jocelyn had got the dough 
mixed and was kneading it lightly with her 
cool deft fingers. As she began to roll it out 
in thin layers and spread them alternately with 
butter and with lard, Jessie, who had disposed 
of her mince-meat, put in another plea. 

“I want some too to roll out on my board 
wif my little rollin’-pin. Can’t I have some, 
Dottelyn ? ” 

She jumped down to run and fetch her little 
implements from her baby-house, and Jocelyn 
good-humoredly broke off a piece of the dough 
and made room for her little board upon a cor- 
ner of the table. This contented the little one 
for a few minutes again, and Jocelyn improved 
the opportunity to line her pie-pans with her 
own pastry, fill them from the great stone-jar, 
and trim off the rims evenly under Aunt Peg- 
gy’s directions. 

“ They look as if they’d be light and nice, 
don’t they ? ” she said, holding one of them up 
with a pleased and eager face. “ Now let me 
put them in the oven, myself, Aunt Peggy, and 
watch the baking, so I can feel I really know 


58 


in mother’s place. 


how ; ” and the old cook moved away with 
a grim smile and let her do as she desired. 

The proper baking of mince -pies requires a 
certain amount of time and attention, and this 
Jocelyn was eager now to give them ; but 
Jessie felt disposed to object. 

“ Dessie don’t want you to stay an’ bake de 
pies,” she whined. “ Dessie want you to go 
up-stairs wif her an’ make her dolly a new 
frock, an’ fix her somesin’ to play party, an’ 
tell her a story, an’ ” 

“ O my ! ” smiled her sister, putting her 
hand playfully over the little rosy pouting face. 
“All those things at once, petty? — But sis- 
ter’s so tired, you know ; she wants to sit 
down now and rest. You roll up your dough 
now into little ducks ; pinch out the bill and 
the feet, and I’ll slip them into the oven be- 
tween my pies and bake them for you.” 

“You say your pies, just the way Aunt 
Peggy does,” commented the child shrewdly. 
“Ain’t they my pies too, an’ everybody’s pies ? 
Are you so proud ’cause you made ’em ? ” and 
Jocelyn found herself actually coloring before 
the keen little blue eyes. 

“ I only hope they’ll turn out nice enough to 
be worth anybody’s claiming,” she said. 
“ Now, Missy, do you want me to help you 
with your ducks ! ” 


A DAY OF IT. 


59 


They were made and put in the oven, and 
then the restless little creature looked about 
for something else to while away the time of 
waiting. 

“ You ain’t doin’ nosin’ else to ’muse me,” 
she said, coming and leaning against her sis- 
ter’s knee. “ I want you to tell me a story ; 
tell me about the Three Bears.” 

“Oh!” said Jocelyn, pinching the rosy 
cheeks. “ Why you know that story better 
than I do ! You tell it to me, that’s a nice 
child.” 

“ O dear ! it’s so velly much trouble ! ” 
sighed the little one, stretching her plump arms 
up above her head. “ Well, be very quiet then, 
and listen 

“ ‘Silver-hair was a little girl, 

’Lufly an’ good : * ” 

and so she went through all the quaint little 
story, told in pretty verse, and made “cun- 
ninger ” than ever by the little broken tongue. 

“ H — mph ! ” grunted Aunt Peggy, who had 
been listening with a distorted grin upon her 
brown, pain-drawn face. “ Any child dat can 
reel off all dem words ’dout a bit of a book 
ought to be at school wi’ de oddah chillen, not 
bodderin’ roun in de kitchen, whah dey’s bakin’ 
goin’ on.” 


60 


IN mother’s place. 


44 1 ain’t botherin’, am I, Dottelyn ? An’ you 
know you like to hear it, Aunt Peggy. I’ll 
say you another now ’bout de chillun in de 
Wood if you be good an’ listen.” 

She straightened out her little skirts with 
her hand, made believe to clear her throat, and 
began again in the sweetest, little, plaintive 
tone : 


“ ‘ My dear, do you know 
“That a long time ago, 

“Two poor little chillens, whose names I don’t 
know—’ ’’ 

But Jessie had the tenderest little heart in 
the world; she never could get through this 
most pathetic of nursery lyrics without making 
several pauses for 44 little weeps ” by the way ; 
and by the time the 44 robins so red had over 
them spread ” the immemorial strawberry- 
leaves, there was a smell of 44 browning ” from 
the stove, and the whole kitchen was full of a 
tempting fruity and cidery odor. 

44 O Aunt Peggy, I believe my pies must be 
done!” cried Jocelyn, jumping up suddenly, 
and opening the door of the oven to peep in. 

44 Yes, they are, just as brown and crisp as 
they can be ! I can take them out, can’t I ? 
Oh, they do look nice, don’t they? I’m so 
glad ! ” 


A DAY OF IT. 


61 


The old woman grunted : “ Sich a fuss about 
a couple o’ mince-pies ! ’Cose dey’s all right 
when dey made unner my d’reckshuns.” She 
was just as much pleased as her young lady, 
but it wasn’t Aunt Peggy’s way to show it. 
“You needn’t bodder about clarin’ up, Miss 
Jos’lyn. I’ll right up de table myse’f ; my haid’s 
gittin’ bettah, I reckon de linimin’s a-takin’ 
hole o’ de mis’ry pow’ful.” 

But Jocelyn insisted upon “clarin’ up” her 
own disorder, and leaving the kitchen in its 
usual comfortable order; and then forgetting 
to be tired in the pleasure of her success, she 
returned to the dining-room, and duly went 
over the tale of the “ blue china,” making her- 
self familiar with the exact number of cups and 
saucers, plates and dishes, and seeing that all 
was duly set back in order upon the freshly- 
scoured shelves. 

Before this was fairly finished, Jessie who had 
stayed behind in the kitchen to “ ’muse poor 
Aunt Peggy, tellin’ her anoder little ’tory 
’bout Red Ridin’-Hood,” came trotting in 
again, demanding to be amused herself. 

“She was hungry; she wanted to play 
party;” and Jocelyn, tender over ‘mother’s 
baby,’ got out some bread and jam and milk, 
and pleased the child by eating her own lunch 
with her off her dolly’s china plates. These 


62 


in mother's place. 


were to be washed up then, and this Jessie 
desired to do herself; “mamma always want- 
ed me to,” she said solemnly, and Jocelyn 
good-humoredly poured water for her into a 
basin, and pinned a towel in front of her white 
apron. 

“ I could have done it myself with one quar- 
ter the time and trouble,” she sighed inwardly, 
as she emptied the basin afterward and wiped 
up the water which Jessie had profusely 
spilled. “ But of course it is right for the child 
to learn, and it amuses her. Only, mother 
dear! how much patience you must have had 
with all of us — me as well as the others ! ” 

She had occasion to verify this conviction 
many times in the course of the afternoon, as 
the tireless little creature, declining to go to 
sleep — “ she was dittin* too big now for day- 
naps” — trotted about after her from closet to 
chest, pulling at this and that, interrupting her 
in the midst of her counting of sheets and 
pillow-cases, mixing up the piles of towels and 
napkins, and generally hindering where she in- 
sisted upon helping. 

Jocelyn was on the point of losing patience 
with her more than once, but that very word 
“hindering,” coming to her lips, checked and 
prevented her. She remembered some little 
verses, cut from a newspaper-corner, she had 


A DAY OF IT. 


63 


picked up once in her mother’s work-basket. 
It was another mother’s pitiful plaint for the 

“little hindering thing” 

who had slipped away out of her path forever ; 
and Jocelyn thinking “ Oh, what should we do 
without our baby!” and knowing her mother 
must have had the same thought when she cut 
out and kept the little verses, checked the im- 
pulse to a hasty word, and was as patient and 
loving with “ mother’s baby ” as mother could 
have been herself. 

She was very tired however when the others 
came in from school at three o’clock, and came 
rushing up-stairs, as was their wont, to 
“mother's room.” She would have been glad 
if they would have taken the little one off her 
hands for awhile, but Janet had a headache — 
poor Janet ! she was subject to headaches — and 
came and pulled a stool up to Jocelyn’s knee, 
and wanted her to “rub it with camphor, and 
press her hands on it hard, the way mother 
did.” 

Jem had a budget of all sorts of school-room 
news which Jocelyn must listen to and be inter- 
ested in; and Joe came swinging up-stairs, 
three steps at a time, in a fine fit of indigna- 
tion: “he wanted something good for lunch, 
and that mean old Aunt Peggy wouldn’t let 


64 


IN mother’s place. 


him have anything but bread and cheese. 
Mightn’t he get out some sweet potatoes, and 
make a fire out in the back yard and roast 
’em?” 

“ Why Joe, dear, dinner will be ready before 
they would be done enough to eat,” his sister 
expostulated. 

“ Yes, an’ we doin’ to have sumpin’ dood for 
dinner!” interposed little Jessie with a triumph- 
ant air, proud of her secret and of her share in 
“ helping ” about the mince-pies. 

“ Oh well, I don’t care ! Some baby doings I 
expect, bread-pudding, or something like that ! 
I’d rather have the sweet potatoes, it’s such fun 
roasting ’em ; there’s another fellow out there ; 
I told him we could ; mother used to let us, 
Jocelyn! ” 

“ Very well,” yielded his sister in a resigned 
tone : the children shouldn’t miss their mother 
any more than she could help ! “ But be care- 

ful, Joe, about the fire, don’t build it near the 
house or fence ; and don’t take too many, and 
above all, don’t bother Aunt Peggy, for she’s 
not feeling well to-day ! ” 

“ No, no — yes — }^es — ” called back Joe, as 
he went sliding down the bannister; and then, 
before Jocelyn had had time to change her 
morning-dress, there was a ring at the door, and 
Mahaly came up. 


A DAY OF IT. 


65 


“ Mr. Jordan would like to see you, Miss 
Jos’lyn, if it’s convenient.” 

Now Mr. Jordan was the minister, and had 
been well-beloved of the mother; Jocelyn could 
not think of denying herself to him when he 
had kindly made time to call so soon. Her 
heart began to palpitate at the thought of 
what must perforce be a melancholy meeting, 
and of keeping him waiting while she made 
some necessary changes in her dress. She 
welcomed the vision of Juliet passing the 
door as she was hurriedly slipping from one 
garment into another, and called to her in a 
nervous voice : 

“Juliet, you are all in order, dear, won’t 
you go down and see Mr. Jordan a few minutes 
till I can get ready? I shan’t be but a little 
while ” 

“Mr. Jordan ! ” Juliet repeated the name in 
a tone of dismayed objection. “ Oh, I can’t, 
Jocelyn ! I never know what to say to minis- 
ters, and I can’t talk about — about — You ought 
to be dressed by this time yourself ! ” 

“ Never mind,” said the older sister, restrain- 
ing herself with an effort ; but Jem did not 
choose to let it pass. 

“ And you ought to be ashamed of yourself 
to be so disobliging, Jule,” she said. “I don’t 
suppose Jocelyn has had a chance to get dressed 

5 


66 


TN MOTHER’S PLACE. 


yet with all there is to see to about the house. 
And the idea of being afraid of Mr. Jordan 
because he’s a minister ! Ministers are just 
like other people, only they ’re gooder. Anyhow, 
why should you think it’s easier for Jocelyn to 

talk about — things — than you ” 

“ And why should you think it necessary to 
put in your word at all, Miss Pert ? ” was 
the angry retort. “ It is you who are disagree^ 
able, always meddling, calling me Jule when 
you know I don’t like it ! ” 

“ Oh well, if you want to be so young ladi- 
fied in one thing you ought in another,” re- 
joined the irrepressible. “ I’ll go down, Joce- 
lyn, if you’d like to have me. I like Mr. Jor- 
dan ever so much ; he always speaks to me so 
nicely, I’m not afraid of him ! ” 

“Yes, I’d like to have you,” assented Joce- 
lyn, hastily buttoning her basque. “ And 
there’s something else you know I’d like, Jem,” 
she added in a lower tone, *“for you to curb 
that quick little tongue of yours ! ” 

The little girl shrugged her shoulders, and 
sent a glance half merry, half mischievous, 
after Juliet’s retreating figure. “ Well, I’ll see 
about it,” she compounded, “ and now I’m 
going to tell Mr. Jordan you’ll be down in a 
minute.” 

“ Tate me wif you ; I want to go too,” little 


A DAY OF IT. 


67 


J essie put in her plea. “ Dottelyn turled my 
hair all pitty, an’ I dot a tlean ap’on on.” 

“All right, come ahead,” agreed Jem; and 
Janet stood up and fastened a hair-pin into the 
loosened tresses which Jocelyn had not had 
time to re-arrange. 

When the elder sister got down into the par- 
lor, she found Miss Jessie perched upon the 
pastor’s knee and looking shyly up into his face 
while he smiled at her artless prattle ; Jem 
stood by his chair, not at all abashed, and in- 
deed there was nothing but the kindest sym- 
pathy and gentleness in his manner to all of 
them. J ocelyn found her nervousness presently 
soothed and quieted by the grave tenderness of 
his words and looks; and when, just before 
going he said, “ Shall we kneel a moment and 
ask our heavenly Father’s help and blessing for 
all of us ? ” she felt that the memory of that 
simple, solemn prayer would remain with her 
always to comfort and to make her strong. 

She needed help just then, poor girl, more 
than even she herself was aware. Her father 
came in from his office just as Mr. Jordan was 
leaving. He looked worn and jaded, and Joce- 
lyn was glad that Mahaly announced dinner a 
few minutes later. 

“ He never will take time for lunch,” she 
said to herself, “ and he looks just faint with 


68 


IN mother's place. 


hanger. I’m so glad I made his favorite des^ 
sert, and it turned out so well ! ” 

She hastened up-stairs to gather the young 
folks promptly to the table, and did her best 
to keep up a round of cheerful talk. When 
the first course was removed, the cloth duly 
brushed, and Mahaly came in bringing the 
pies, nicely browned and powdered with 
sugar, a murmur of pleasure arose from the 
younger members, and the father’s grave looks 
brightened a little involuntarily. The color 
came to Jocelyn’s cheeks, and she could not 
help a little inward thrill as she carefully 
made her first essay in what is not so easy 
to a novice, the cutting it into neat and regular 
portions. 

When the last one was served, before she 
began to taste her own, she sent a glance of 
shy inquiry from under her long lashes round 
the table. To her consternation she saw at 
once that the touch of pleased expectation had 
left her father’s face, and he was regarding his 
plate with a look of perplexity; Joe had delib- 
erately scooped out the rich and fragrant “ fill- 
ing ” from his crust, and was devouring it with 
gusto ; Janet was doing the same, more deli- 
cately ; Juliet was leaning back in her chair, 
merely playing with her knife and fork, and 
with an inscrutable look on her chiseled feat- 


A DAY OF IT. 


69 


ures ; and only Jem was going through hers, 
crust and all, with sturdy loyalty. 

“ What — what is the matter ? ” faltered the 
young house-mistress, the color deepening in 
her cheek. “Isn’t the pastry tender? I made 
it just as Aunt Peggy told me — ” 

“ It is tender — yes, dear,” answered her 
father in a puzzled tone. “ But there seems to 
be something lacking — ” 

“I should think so,” put in Joe, with his 

mouth full of raisins. “ It’s as flat ” 

“‘ Dear father, they lack salt,’ ” quoted Janet 
quaintly from a little poem she had read in a 
magazine not long before. Janet had a ready 
quotation for almost everything. 

“ Salt ! ” repeated Jocelyn in dismay. “ Why 
surely I put in the salt ! ” 

She hastily carried a bit of the white fleaky 
crust to her mouth : no, it was as Joe had said, 
“flat” indeed. The poor girl’s face reddened 
with mortification. “ I’m sorry, father,” she 
said with an effort. “ It was very careless of 
me. Have some more of the mince-meat — that 
is good.” 

“Yes, I reckon so;” again put in Joe, as 
though he should say “ small credit to you for 
that ! ” But Jessie, catching the sound of tears 
in her sister’s voice broke in even before Jem 
could speak : 


70 


IN mother’s place. 


“ It’s all my fault, Janet, ’cause I wasbodder- 
in’ her, wasn’t I, Dottelyn ? an’ you san’t any- 
body make her feel bad ’bout de ole pies. Eat 
’em wifout de crust ; dat’s de way I’m doin’.” 

Joe giggled, but hushed quickly at his fath- 
er’s grave glance. 

“ Why ' of course no one shall make sister 
feel badly ; it is you, little one, who must not 
‘ bodder her,’” he said with the indulgent smile 
no one could ever refuse to ‘ mother’s baby.’ 
“ And really, daughter, there is nothing for you 
to be disturbed about ; I think for a first effort 
your pastry is very creditable indeed, and next 
time Missy there mustn’t put things out of 
your mind. As for the rest of you, you must 
remember that it is the salt of kindliness and 
good-will and consideration and forbearance 
that is needed to season family life, and the 
lack of which matters a great deal more than 
its accidental absence even in our favorite 
mince-pies. Yes, dear, I will have a little more 
of the meat, and next time I don’t doubt but 
that the crust will be all right.” 

When Mahaly carried the news of the mis- 
hap into the kitchen, old Aunt Peggy relieved 
her feelings by a more emphatic grunt than 
usual. 

“ Dah now ! ” she exclaimed, “ ain't dat ah 
enuff to tarrify de haht outen a stone ? Artah 


A DAY OF IT. 


71 


all de trubble I tuk a showin’ her too ! I jes 
wish I done make de pies myse’f, spite o’ de 
misery in my haid. All accyount o’ dat ah young- 
ster ; orter bin sot’ daown in a cheer to studdy 
her book, ’stid o’ makin’ ducks outen dough 
right at de same table. Miss Jos’lyn too saft- 
hearted, jes like her maw; gwine spile dat 
chile, naow you see ef she don’t. Laws-a-massy ! 
nobody nevah spilt me when I was a young un ; 
’twas a word an’ a blow wi’ my ole mammy, de 
lawd res’ her soul ! ” 

“ Well, it didn’t make you no happier, nor no 
sweeter dispositioned, did it, Aunt Peggy ? ” 
inquired her fellow-servant in a significant tone. 
“ Don’t you worry now ’bout Miss Jos’lyn ; 
she’s got a power o’ sense for all she’s so sweet. 
She feels kind o’ tender just now over them 
chillen, but she’s a-goin’ to bring ’em through 
just right, now you mind what I tell you ! ” 

And for a wonder, Aunt Peggy did not gain- 
say her. 

In the meantime the object of their discus- 
sion had taken the opportunity of the general 
rising from the table to slip out of the dining- 
room, and through the hall into the dusky 
window-recess of the parlor; where screened 
from the rest of the room by heavy curtains she 
might find a chance to relieve her over-charged 
feelings by a few natural tears. Jocelyn had 


72 


IN mother's place. 


never been one of the u weeping kind ” of girls ; 
her mother used to say in happy confidence to 
her father that her disposition was as sweet and 
round as a ripe cocoanut. She could bear to 
make mistakes, to be teased about them, to 
recognize them herself, and cheerfully to try 
to amend them, instead of feeling injured and 
miserable if they were alluded to : but she was 
tired now ; she felt disappointed, and a little 
discouraged. The sense of responsibility, and 
the fear lest she should not be adequate to its 
proper discharge, weighed upon her spirits ; 
and she could not resist the relief of a few se- 
cret tears. 

She was allowed to indulge them undisturbed 
for awhile, for the younger ones were occupied 
elsewhere. Janet had taken refuge in a book 
as usual; Joe was undertaking to initiate Jem 
in the magic art of sharpening a pencil prop- 
erly ; and Juliet had followed her father into 
the study with a difficult sentence in her Virgil 
which she could not construe to her satisfaction. 

Jessie had trotted out into the kitchen to give 
Aunt Peggy her complacent explanation of the 
failure of the dessert; but not finding much 
approval there, and used at this idle after-din- 
ner hour to make herself cozy in her mother’s 
lap, she set out on a search for her mother- 
sister. 


A DAY OF IT. 


73 


“ Where is Dottelyn ? I want to be tooked 
up an’ cuddled — ” she queried plaintively of 
the group who had gathered round the evening- 
lamp. 

“Oh do let Jocelyn have a minute’s peace, 
won’t you? ” interposed Jem as the child, not 
seeing her, was going on toward the parlor 
to look there for her. “Come back, Jessie, 
that’s a dear ! I’ll take you up and cuddle 
you if you’ll let me ! ” 

But the little one, feeling lost and lonely, 
went on her way without reply. Some instinct 
drew her baby feet to the window where her 
sister sat crying softly to herself, and wishing, 
oh how pitifully ! that she had her mother’s 
dear bosom on which to shed her tears — only 
then, the tears would not wish to come ! In an 
instant a little pair of soft plump arms were 
about her neck; a little anxious voice was 
pleading at her ear, 

“ Dottelyn ! is oo kyin’, Dottelyn ? What oo 
kyin’ bout, honey ? make Dessie ky too pitty 
soon.” 

And then as there came a last little sobbing 
outburst, 

“ Don’t ee ky, Dottelyn ; p'ease don’t, an’ I 
dive oo — I dive oo my ittle dis’es! ” 

Now the sacrifice of these, her most precious 
possession, would have been the last expression 


74 


in mother’s place. 


of devotion on Jessie’s part, and her sister’s 
heart was touched to the quick. 

“You little blessed!” she cried half hyster- 
ically, and snatched the child up to her breast. 
“ Sister wouldn’t take your dear little dis’es, 
but sister loves you, and she won’t be naughty 
and cry any more.” 

She rocked her softly to and fro, and com- 
forted her “ as one whom his mother comfort- 
eth,” and the little one clung to her in all con- 
fidence and love. 

“Would Jessie like Dottelyn to take her up- 
stairs and put her to bed and sing her to sleep ? ” 
she asked presently, stroking the curly yellow 
locks. 

But Jessie was learning a lesson of unselfish- 
ness too. 

“ No — o,” she said, with not a little effort. 
“ Oo’s tired, I know, an’ I’m goin’ to let Jem 
put me to bed. She said she would, an’ I ain’t 
goin’ to keep her to sing me to s’eep, ‘cause 
she’s got her lessons to learn. I’m jus’ goin’ 
to s’eep my own self like a dood girl. So kiss 
me good-night, Dottelyn, dear.” 

“ And that is being a good girl, too,” en- 
dorsed Jem, who had only waited to finish her 
pencil before following her. “ You come along 
now with Jem, and see what a pretty story 
she’il tell you ! ” 


A DAY OP IT. 


75 


They trotted away happily together, and the 
elder sister stretched her tired arms up above 
her head, “ What a day I’ve had of it ! ” she 
half said, half sighed. “But I shall get used 
to it by and by, and take it easily as mother 
did. And I ought not to mind anything when I 
have such comforters as those two dear little 
things. Heigho ! I must go into the sitting- 
room, and see what the others are about. 
Mother never kept away all by herself.” 

She stretched her arms again, and prepared 
to leave her comfortable nook; but just at that 
moment she saw a vision, and heard a sound, 
which — she could not for the life of her told 
the reason why ! — made her sink back again in 
her seat , and hold her hands to her bosom to 
press back a certain sudden tumultuous thrill. 

Yet the vision was only that of a familiar fig- 
ure going round to the side entrance of the 
house, and the sound that of a familiar voice in 
the next apartment. 


CHAPTER IV. 


COMING AND GOING. 

u TTEY-0 ! How’s everybody? ” 

It was the old familiar greeting which 
had been heard in the Jay family’s sitting-room 
any hour of the day or evening about as far back 
as its younger members recollected anything. 
Certainly Jocelyn could scarcely remember the 
time when people had not smilingly spoken to 
her of Dick Fairfax, the doctor’s nephew, as 
her “ little sweetheart ; ” and as the other girls 
had emerged one after another from the toddle- 
kin stage, he had included them also in his 
pretty boyish gallantries. He had served as 
their escort-in-general to all the small festivi- 
ties of their childhood, and was always to be 
counted upon to see them home from evening 
meeting, lecture, or sociable. He had been in 
the habit of coming to their mother — poor 
fellow, he had lost his own parents when he was 
a little chap in “short trousers” — with all his 
small joys and sorrows, hopes and fears. 

“Uncle Steve is awful jolly, you know,” he 
would say naively ; “ but he’d only make fun o’ 
( 76 ) 


COMING AND GOING. 


77 


me, Mrs. Jerome, if I came bothering him with 
school fusses and things; and as for Cousin 
Oriana, why, she never had any little boys of 
her own, and she don’t know. Now you do 
always know just what I mean and just what 
to say to me ; and ’deed an ’deed, I’m mighty 
glad I’ve got you all to come to ! ” 

Mr. Jerome had got as used to seeing the 
bright-faced lad about the house and grounds 
as if he were his own, and was one of the first 
to miss him if he happened to stay away for 
any length of time. And as for Joe, he didn’t 
feel as if the eight or nine years’ difference in 
their ages was of any consequence whatever, 
now that under Dick’s instructions, he had 
learned to swim and ride and play baseball 
almost as well as young Fairfax himself. He 
always appropriated as much of his companion- 
ship as he could, and “ wondered what he 
wanted to fool away his time, bothering with 
girls for.” 

“Aha!” shrewd little Jem would retort in 
reply to him ; “ That’s only because the girls 

are your own sisters; you wait awhile till we 
see you “fooling” round other boys’ sisters! 
And anyhow, you can have lots of other boys 
for company ; Dick belongs to us ; and you 
always will belong to us, won’t you, Dick, no 
matter if you are grown up a big man, and a 


78 


IN mother’s place. 


‘very fascinating young gentleman,’ as I heard 
Miss — well, a very pretty young lady — call you 
the other day to Jocelyn.” 

“ O Jem ! you little fibber ! — and what did 
Jocelyn say, please ? ” 

“ Oh, never mind. And you needn’t color up 
so, just like a girl. Here, sharpen this pencil 
for me, please, won’t you, Dick, Joe says he 
won't show me any more, I’m so stupid. But 
indeed, I can’t help cutting the points off fast 
as I make ’em.” 

“ And if ever Jem gets done with you, Dick,” 
Janet would put in, “there’s that piece of 
poetry you promised to copy off for me ; ” 
and Juliet, with a look of enforced resignation 
would intimate that when he was quite at leis- 
ure, she had something to ask Dick about which 
only he could properly understand. And then 
Jocelyn would come in smiling, and sit down 
to the piano, and they would all gather round 
and sing; or there would be a game of Authors, 
or a general guessing of riddles and rebusses 
in the weekly paper, or the mother would bring 
in a tray full of black walnuts and pippins ; and 
so the happy evenings would go by, and the 
boy grew from childhood to manhood with the 
feeling always of “belonging” in the Jay-birds’ 
Nest. 

They missed him sadly when he went away 


COMING AND GOING. 


79 


for two years to Philadelphia to complete the 
medical course which he had begun with his 
uncle, a long-time practitioner in the old bor- 
ough of Oakleigh. But the free and friendly 
intercourse had been faithfully kept up by the 
interchange of letters and small birthday and 
holiday remembrances. Boxes of “ Parkin- 
son’s candy,” new magazines, a book now and 
then, or the latest fad in knick-knackerie, 
found their way through the mails to the brown 
house at the head of the street; and Dick’s 
“ den ” at the medical college was the envy of 
all the other students for the daintiness of its 
appointments in the way of bureau-scarfs, 
slumber-rolls, photograph-cases, and all the 
varied items of feminine handicraft. 

Now that he was back again at Oakleigh, a 
full-fledged M. D., he was established in his 
uncle’s office as his clerk and assistant, and the 
old familiar companionship had been renewed, 
and there wero few days when “Young Dr. 
Fairfax” and the Jay-family did not have a 
glimpse of each other. 

No individual member had hitherto laid 
special claim to him; his cheery laugh, his 
ready interest, his gallant service, were the 
mutual property of each and all of them ; and 
even a fortnight ago Jocelyn would never have 
thought of staying apart from the others when 


80 


in mother’s place. 


she heard the sound of his familiar voice ; that 
curious thrilling consciousness keeping her 
bound to her chair — and waiting till he himself 
should come to seek her out. 

But within that period, the very day* when 
her mother’s brief and fatal illness had first 
attacked her, one or two little things had hap- 
pened to awaken the consciousness, which had 
hitherto lain dormant in the young girl’s heart. 
Some errand had taken her down town that 
morning, and passing the doctor’s office, she 
had seen young Fairfax, after giving her a 
quick smile of greeting from the window, turn 
as though to take his hat, and then hastily 
leave the office. She had taken it for granted 
he was going to join her. 

“ Poor Dick ! he hasn’t much to do yet,” she 
had thought, and relaxed her pace for a mo- 
ment ; then glancing back, as no quick stride 
overtook her, she had been a little sur- 
prised to see the young doctor’s tall figure 
hurrying off in just the opposite direction. 

“ Why, maybe he has had a call — a sudden 
one — ” she thought again. “ Wouldn’t it be 
nice if he could establish a practice for him- 
self right away ! Of course, I suppose he’ll 
have his uncle’s by and by ; but I know Dick 
well enough to know how he would like to 
make his own way independently for himself. 


COMING AND GOING. 


81 


What a fine manly fellow he has grown up to 
be, our Dick ! I was a little anxious — or 
mother was — about him in that student-life in 
a big, strange city ; but I don’t believe it has 
hurt him one bit ; I do believe he is as good as 
he is handsome, and that’s saying a good deal. 
Though not more than he — than he said — to 
me — the other day — ” The girl scarcely 
whispered the words to her own self, and any 
one passing just then and getting a glimpse of 
the shy young face under its wide-brimmed 
hat, would have thought “ what a color that 
oldest Jay girl has to-day ! ” 

When her errands were finished, as Jocelyn, 
arrived at home again, was about entering 
as was the family habit, by the colonnade door, 
she caught a glimpse of the same tall figure 
crossing the front porch, and clearing the yard 
with great strides, putting his hand to the low 
gate and leaping over it into the street after 
his old boyish fashion. She stood watching 
him for a moment with a little chagrin : “ So 

it was here he was coming ! Well, as he stayed 
so long he might have stayed a little longer 
till I came back ! — But what nonsense, — he’ll 
be here again this evening, I don’t doubt ; and 
if he isn’t, why — ” and a shrug of her shoul- 
ders and a saucy smile completed the sentence. 

He was there again indeed, that evening, ac- 
6 


82 


IN mother’s place. 


companying bis uncle, who had been hastily 
summoned by the mother’s sudden alarming 
illness, to see if he could be of any service, 
and to do what he might toward calming and 
comforting the frightened family. All through 
that sorrowful time, he had been there at all 
hours, ready to come and to go, to serve and to 
wait, to suffer for and with them ; but now 
that all was over, he had kept away for a day 
or two, withdrawing himself and his own 
sorrowful heart, that the stricken family might 
be alone with their own speechless grief. 

But they had missed him, and he read his wel- 
come in the prompt answer to his greeting : 

44 How’s everybody ? Why very glad to see 
you again, Dick, old fellow ; ” and then there 
was the usual chorus of voices which his advent 
always started, question and answer, each one 
with something to tell, to hear, to ask about. 

Jocelyn listened to the mingled hum of 
sounds with a curious far-away feeling, as one 
listens at times to the tide rolling slowly, mur- 
muring into the shore and watches for it to 
break in silver foam-wreaths at one’s feet. She 
heard Jem’s eager exclamation, “Why, is that 
you, Dick ? ” as she came down from putting 
her little sister to bed ; and presently, for care- 
less Jem had left the sitting-room door open 
also, she caught her own name ; Dick asking, 


COMING AND GOING. 83 

“and where is Jocelyn this evening? Is she 
up-stairs with the little one, Jem? ” 

“No indeed; I put Jessie to bed myself so 
Jocelyn could have a little rest, She’s in the 
parlor, but I guess she’s ready to come out by 
now ; I’ll go tell her you are here.” 

“ Oh no, don’t take that trouble, Jem ; I’ll 
go find her myself, thank you.” Then a pro- 
testing chorus, said: 

“ Oh, oh ! well, don’t stay long then : make 
her come in here with you ! ” and then, a quick 
stride through the hall, a tall straight young 
figure entering the parlor door and closing it 
after him, and Dick himself stood before her in 
the bay-window. 

Jocelyn made a movement to rise. “ I — I’ll 
make a light,” she said. 

But Dick playfully pressed her back into her 
seat. 

“ Since when have you had to make the lights 
when I was round to do it for you ? ” he asked. 
“But Jocelyn, we don’t want any light, do we ? 
Just look up there ! ” He pointed upward to 
where the evening star flashed like a gem on 
the dusky brow of night. 

“ Do you remember one of the first little hymns 
we learned together for Sunday-school 

“ * The evening star hath lighted 
Her crystal lamp on high ’ ” 


84 


IN mother’s place. 


and it is like a lamp, isn’t it, to-night? so big 
and bright. How it makes your eyes sparkle 
as you look up at it ! But no wonder they 
shine, there are tears in them, Jocelyn ! ” 

Jocelyn hastily put up her handkerchief: 
“ No,” she said, “but — ” her voice faltered. 

“ Yes, I know,” and the young man’s own 
eyes grew suddenly moist. “I believe I loved 
her as well as if she had been my own mother, 
God bless her ! — and I think — I think she felt 
to me almost as to a son.” 

Jocelyn could not speak and Fairfax had to 
hesitate before he could find voice again. Then 
in a very grave, gentle tone, he said, “ I had 
reason to feel very sure of this, Jocelyn, one 
morning not long ago, the very day she was 
taken ill. You remember being down town? 
I saw you pass, and as I wished very particu- 
larly to speak with her alone- 1 came right 
up.” 

Yes, Jocelyn remembered; she remembered 
also the glance which she met from her mother 
when she went up to her room ; such a strange, 
examining, proud, and yet troubled glance, as 
she had never received from those calm eyes 
before ; and under which she felt herself invol- 
untarily coloring and growing warm. The 
glance itself had been involuntary, and was 
hastily transformed into the wonted pleasant 


COMING AND GOING. 


85 


smile ; and Jocelyn could not bring herself to 
ask her mother what it meant. Indeed, there 
was no need; for her own subtle conscious- 
ness swiftly supplied the key ; “ They have 
been talking about me ! ” she had cried to 
herself; and then there had come the sum- 
mons to luncheon, afternoon callers, the chil- 
dren flocking home from school, and later, the 
sudden and fatal illness which had put all 
thoughts except those awful ones of death and 
loss and grief unspeakable, out of all hearts 
and minds. 

She recalled it all now, but she could not say 
anything, and Fairfax went on, speaking in a 
low serious tone. 

“ It was not that I had anything new to tell 
her ; she understood well enough all along 
what sort of feeling I had for you, what hope I 
was cherishing — and you knew it too, didn’t 
you, Jocelyn? Just give me one look won’t 
you, dear ? ” 

A pause, a slow, reluctant movement, a single 
mute uplifting of the long-lashed lids, and then 
the eyes were veiled again. It seemed to her 
now as though she had always known it, though 
she had never spoken even with her own heart 
about it. 

“Yes, well, I knew it — God bless you, dear I 
— and was very happy in the knowing, and con- 


86 


in mother’s place. 


tent to bide my time. But something had hap- 
pened a day or two before which made me 
want to have it more settled ; signed and 
sealed, as one may say. I had received a letter 
from an old student-chum of mine who had 
passed on to me an offer which had been made 
to him, but which lie couldn’t accept, because 
his father, an old physician, wished to retire 
from business and put his practice directly into 
his son’s hands. It was an odd sort of offer, 
something out of the usual way, and a rather 
tempting one in some respects ; in all respects 
perhaps, except the one great one, that it would 
mean my leaving Oakleigh — and you — again 
for a good while.” 

Jocelyn made a little wistful movement, 
and the white hands locked loosely in her lap 
began nervously to lace and interlace each 
other. 

“You don’t like the notion, dear?” asked 
Fairfax quickly. “ You don’t want me to go 
away? Well, that settles the matter at once 
then. That was why I brought myself to speak 
of my own feelings when I knew how, how full 
your heart was of other things. But I don’t 
need to trouble you any farther now, dear. If 
you do not wish me to leave you, I certainly 
shall not, and we needn’t talk any more about 
it now.” 


COMING AND GOING. 


87 


He made a movement as if to rise from the 
low seat which ran around the half circle of the 
window, upon which he had placed himself, 
almost at her feet. But Jocelyn put out her 
hand a moment to detain him. 

“Tell me about it,” she said without lifting 
her eyes, and speaking with an effort. 

“Why certainly,” settling his tall length 
back again upon the cushions ; “ since you are 
interested to hear ; and then we need not even 
think of it again. Well, it seems there is a 
wealthy old lady living in Philadelphia, an 
Englishwoman, and a crank, I reckon, on most 
subjects, especialty upon that of her health, and 
the pernicious effect this ‘atrocious American 
climate ’ has upon the same ! She is here on 
account of her daughter having married a 
prominent Philadelphia lawyer, whom she met 
abroad, and the old lady finds it hard to live 
without her. She finds it harder still however, 
to live in America, where they ‘don’t speak 
English,’ you know ; call ‘ lifts ’ elevators, and 
‘ trams ’ horsecars ; and otherwise offend her 
ladyship’s eyes and ears every hour of the day. 
So my friend writes me she has developed a 
first-class case of hypochondria, and has made 
up her mind to quit these benighted shores, and 
wing her flight to the gentler climes of Italy, 
France, Greece, and the Mediterranean gener- 


88 


in mother’s place. 


ally. But as she speaks no language but her 
own, and has no longer her daughter for inter- 
preter and companion ; and does not choose to 
be quite dependent upon her courier and her 
maid; or entirely at the mercy of those ‘mon- 
keyfied foreign quacks ’ — I use quotations, 
please ! — she has decided to take her own phy- 
sician along with her, traveling quite as a prin- 
cess, in private carriages, and trying, I fancy, to 
kill time and cure herself in the least disagree- 
able way she can think of. 

“ Now, as I told you, my friend thought it 
wise for business reasons, to decline the pro- 
posal made to him to become physician-in-ordi- 
nary to the Hon. Mrs. Chumley. The idea of 
a long luxurious tour through the south of 
Europe was very attractive, he admits ; but the 
fact of an established practice was more so. 
And so, as he knew my uncle was good for any 
number of years yet, and did not really need 
me here, he very kindly recommended me in 
his stead. The Hon. Mrs. Chumley who evi- 
dently had great faith in him, and who, of 
course, can only expect to find a young unset- 
tled doctor at her disposal for such a service as 
that, was graciously pleased to accept me as a 
substitute — and that is really all there is about 
it, Jocelyn. And we need not think of it again, 
dear.” 


COMING AND GOING. 


89 


But Jocelyn would not waive the subject so 
lightly away. 

“ What does your uncle say to it ? ” she said, 
trying to keep her voice steady and neutral. 

“Oh well, he sees certain advantages in it, 
of course. He has no real use for me at pres- 
ent, and he knows there is no immediate neces- 
sity for me to try to establish a practice, as I 
have the little property my father left me, and 
shall drop into his business when he steps out 
of it. That seems to go without saying, you 
know; I believe there has always been a Dr. 
Fairfax in Oakleigh since there was any Oak- 
leigh or any Fairfaxes this side the big pond. 
And there are good old folks here, bless ’em ! 
who wouldn’t think they could take a pill or a 
draught prescribed by anybody of a different 
name ! 

“So my uncle thinks it would be a good 
opportunity to widen my horizon, you know ; 
to see other countries, hear other people’s talk, 
see how the other half of the world lives and 
thinks and feels. I should have plenty of time 
to study languages on the spot where they are 
spoken, and to go through the hospitals in 
Paris and Vienna ; and he thinks that would 
help me to keep abreast of modern advance- 
ment in my profession, and in short, that it 
would make of me something more than a mere 


90 


in mother’s place. 


country doctor who had never been three hun- 
dred miles away from his native Virginia. 

“But Uncle Steve understands, Jocelyn; he 
knows how things are — for I have told him,” 
confessed the young fellow, reddening visibly 
in the starlight. “He knows all that is as 
nothing to me in comparison with the thought 
of being of use or comfort to you, and he has 
not urged it, no, nor even advised ; he has left 
it entirely to me, and 1 leave it entirely to you. 
If you will say you want me to stay, Jocelyn — ” 
he tried again to get possession of her hands ; 
“if you will only tell me what I hope and 
believe, but can’t feel sure of till you do — if 
you will let me speak to your father — your 
mother was going to, but now I must ” 

But Jocelyn drew away, and made a quick 
gesture of denial. 

“ No, no ! you must not do that,” she cried. 
Poor girl, she had been having a sharp struggle 
with herself all this while. She had listened 
with a keenly sensitive outward ear which 
missed not one of all the long list of advant- 
ages that would naturally accrue from such a 
tour of travel and observation; but all the 
while her own inner feelings were uttering their 
pained protest ; her self-love was tingling at the 
thought of his even considering the possibility 
of leaving her, for so far, and so long, just now ; 


COMING AND GOING. 


91 


and her young heart, already burdened with 
grief, was quivering with the sense of added 
loss and loneliness to come. But the mention 
of her father acted at once as a power to draw 
her up out of the quicksands of selfishness, 
and set her feet upon firm ground again. 

She braced herself with a sort of sad firm- 
ness : “ No, no, Dick, you must not do that,” 
she repeated gravely and gently. “ My poor 
father — he has all he is able to bear just now ; 
or at least, neither you nor I would wish to add 
a feather’s weight to his burden. And it 
would pain him, I know, surprise and wound 
him, even to imagine that I, that we, could be 
giving a thought to any foolish happiness of 
our own when his heart was feeling so sore and 
empty ” 

“But surely, Jocelyn, he loves you well 
enough — he would be glad to know that some 
happiness had come to you in the midst of your 
trouble — O Jocelyn ! ” and the young man’s 
face glowed — “ do you know, my dear, what an 
admission you have made ? How happy you 
have made me ! ” 

Jocelyn’s pale face flushed in the cool silver 
of the starlight. She faltered a moment, but 
then, “ Never mind that now, Dick,” she said 
firmly. “ I am thinking of my father, and I 
think, no matter how much he loves me he 


92 


in mother's place 


would have a right to feel hurt at your bring- 
ing any such matter to him just at this time. 
Of course I understand how you had to come 
to me because you wanted me to help you 
decide about this matter of going away. Well, 
it is decided as far as I am concerned, Dick. 
In any case, I think, I hope, I should have 
urged you to go, for your own advantage ; but 
now that you have been so rash, foolish boy ! I 
feel that you really must go. You could not 
keep on coming here just in the old way, you 
know you couldn’t — ” and the sweet shy color 
stole into her cheek again. “ You’d be sure to 
betray yourself in some way, to let them sus- 
pect something, and Dick, I cannot consent to 
that. I simply cannot let them imagine I am 
thinking of myself more than of them at such 
a time. I don’t want to think of myself. I 
feel that God has put me in my mother’s place 
to them, and by his help I mean to fill it so far 
as in me lies. And I could not do this if you 
were constantly coming claiming me, wanting 
to keep me to yourself evenings, like this, don’t 
you see ? Poor things, I’m afraid they are feel- 
ing left out and hurt even now.” 

The young man did not answer. He sat 
looking straight before him, gloomy and pained 
himself. 

“ You do see, or you will presently, when you 


COMING AND GOING. 


98 


have thought it over,” Jocelyn urged with soft 
insistence. “There is no selfishness in your 
nature — at least I never have found it out. 
And it isn’t as though you did not have a pleas- 
ant alternative, as though you were obliged to 
stay here and yet be kept on guard and at a 
distance. You shall start straight away on 
your tour of improvement, and I don’t doubt 
the Hon. Mrs. Chumley will strengthen your 
virtues of patience, self-control, good-humor ; I 
expect I shall feel very grateful to her one of 
these days.” 

“ Oh, you do, do you ! ” and the young physi- 
cian-in-ordinary started up, all alert and beam- 
ing again. “And when, may I be permitted 
to ask, is that vague period ‘one of these days’ 
to be looked forward to? For how long do 
you contemplate banishing me in this cool 
fashion? My old lady may live to the age of 
Methuselah for aught I know, and become 
so devoted to me that she will not be willing 
to part from my valuable self. But what I 
want to know is the limit you propose? Set 
some more definite bounds, please, to my pa- 
tience and forbearance, and your self-abnegation 
in favor of others ! ” 

“ Hear, hear ! ” mocked Jocelyn, with an ef- 
fort at playfulness which poorly disguised the 
cost of the sacrifice she was making. “ Why, 


94 


m mother’s place. 


sometime in the course of three or four years, I 
suppose — ” 

Dick gave a low incredulous whistle. “ Yes, 
I reckon so. Eight or ten, why don’t you say, 
‘ J. J.’ ?” 

“When Juliet has left school, and is ready.” 

“ I think I hear my name spoken,” suddenly 
said a chill, offended voice at the parlor door. 
“ I would rather, if it is just the same to you 
two, you would talk with me than about me. 
What are you staying off here by yourselves, in 
the dark for? The children have got tired 
waiting and gone off to bed.” 

“ In the dark ! ” repeated Dick, jumping up 
to his feet, and pulling aside the heavy curtain 
which separated the bay-window from the rest 
of the room. 

“ Look there ! Why, we’ve had a special 
lamp for our benefit. Isn’t it glorious? ” 

He flashed a quick glance at Jocelyn as he 
spoke, as though he should say, “Yes, and a 
star has risen in our hearts in the midst of the 
darkness, which shall never set, but brighten 
our lives unto the end ! ” 

But she would not meet his look, and Juliet 
only raised her eyes indifferently to the brilliant 
planet for a moment. 

“ Yes, it is very bright this evening,” she said 
in a neutral tone. “ But a lamp is much more 


COMING AND GOING. 


95 


comfortable. Why not come into the sitting- 
room ? There is something I wanted to talk to 
you about, Dick.” 

“Suppose you sit down here, a moment, 
dear,” said Jocelyn gently, making place for 
her. “Dick has something to tell you too, 
Juliet. He is going away again.” 


CHAPTER V. 


A MYSTERY. 

T HERE was a general outburst of protest and 
lamentation among the younger members 
of the Jay family when the announcement of 
their special friend’s purposed departure was 
publicly made next morning. Joe especially 
was in a fine rage, and fairly snapped and 
growled. 

“ Like to know what a man that could stay 
in America wanted to go wandering off amongst 
those frog and macaroni-eating fellows for? 
Virginia, and oysters, and terrapin, were good 
enough for him.” 

“ I’m afraid your horizon is limited, Joe, my 
boy,” said his father, looking almost amused, in 
spite of his own regret at the loss of his favorite 
Dick. 

“Those same frog-eaters would shrink with 
horror at the sight of one of our diamond-backs 
poking out his leathery head and claws ; and 
we have learned to appreciate their special 
dainty more readily, I fancy, than they have 
ours. Then even as to oysters, people on the 
( 96 ) 


A MYSTERY. 


97 


other side think our Chesapeake-bay bivalves 
quite too large to be delicate ; even Thackeray 
said when he first ate one that he felt as if he 
had swallowed a baby! You see it widens 
one’s understanding of relative values to get 
out of one’s own corner into other people’s, 
once in a while.” 

Joe was so overwhelmed at having surprised 
his sad and silent father into something really 
like playfulness again, that he would not risk 
trying to maintain his position, but he leavened 
his grief none the less with disgust and wrath. 
Janet took hers mournfully, with moistening 
eyes: “I don’t know what in the world we 
shall do without him ! ” she said in her most 
plaintive tone. “ There won’t be anybody at all 
now to brighten us up a little.” But Juliet, 
hiding her own pain in her own breast after 
her usual Spartan fashion, swooped down upon 
her severely. 

“For pity’s sake,” she exclaimed, “do Janet, 
learn to depend upon yourself, and not always 
be wanting to lean upon others. Brighten 
yourself up ! ” 

Jem took the news in her wonted chirping 
cricket-like way : “ Oh well, it’s too bad, but 
he'll be coming back before a hundred years,” 
she said. “ And don’t cry, Janet ; you’re mak- 
ing poor little Jess pucker up her mouth. I re’ll 

7 


98 


IN mother's place. 


bring us all something pretty, I’m sure he will ; 
and just think what fun it’ll be to show the 
girls a present that was really brought for our 
own selves straight from Europe ! ” Jocelyn 
gave the cheery little cricket a quick grateful 
glance ; it was getting to be almost too much 
for her to hear ! 

It seemed at first almost like that other sor- 
rowful coming back to an empty house when 
they returned from seeing him off at the little 
railway station ; but the others had their lessons 
and their school-mates to push him gradually 
out of their minds, and as for Joceljm, the 
sweet was so mingled with the bitter that she 
felt she had no right to complain. After one 
sharp struggle with the haunting sense of addi- 
tional loss, she was able to balance it with her 
gain, and shaking off from her own spirit the 
cloud that would have spread itself over the 
rest of the household, she came back into her 
old sweet cheerful composure, and went about 
her household ways, sustained by the conscious- 
ness of doing what was right, and cheered by 

“ The secret of a happy thought 
She did not care to speak.” 

Meanwhile letters presently came from the 
wanderer, family letters, full of all manner of 
merry nonsense, of clever characterization and 


A MYSTERY. 


99 


piquant observation. Nothing escaped Dick’s 
quick eyes and ears, and he so reported and 
photographed things that they all felt as though 
they were making the tour of the Riviera with 
him. He did not confine himself to the affairs 
of his journey either ; there were always plenti- 
ful manifestations of interest in all that was go- 
ing on in the little Virginia town, and espe- 
cially in the big brown cottage : Dick forgot no 
one and nothing, and every member of the Jay 
family had the satisfaction of feeling when one 
of those thin blue envelopes, pasted all over 
with queer-looking stamps arrived, that it was 
meant just as much for that individual one as 
for any of the others. If Jocelyn sometimes 
fancied, reading the closely-written pages over 
again all to herself in her own room when the 
rest were away at school, that she could dis- 
cover something — a hint, an allusion, special to 
herself, between the lines, what harm in it ? 
But Dick was very faithful to his promise of 
caution ; no cause was given for hurt feelings ; 
and indeed they could afford to do without 
separate communication ; for in Dick’s breast 
pocket, wherever he went, went with him as his 
beloved companion the little Testament in 
which she had marked a dozen verses reminding 
him of her constant “ heart’s desire and prayer 
to God ” for his welfare, body and soul : while 


100 


IN mother’s place. 


in a tiny bag, suspended from a slender gold 
chain which she had worn since she wal a baby, 
hung next to Jocelyn’s innocent heart an old- 
fashioned ring — it had been his mother’s be- 
trothal ring — whose quaint inscription, “ miz - 
pah ” comforted her daily and nightly with the 
thought that the Lord watched between him 
and* her. 

So the days wore into weeks and the weeks 
into months in the Jay Bird's Nest, and nothing 
occurred to warrant especial chronicling. The 
household life had been so well-ordered by the 
wise and tender hand that had now vanished, 
that it was not difficult to settle back after its 
brief painful disruption, into the old methodi- 
cal ways. The cook, notwithstanding all that 
might be wished to the contrary, is always more 
or less the arbiter of comfort and discomfort 
in a household ; and Aunt Peggy had made up 
her mind to create no change in the order of 
things. She had discovered that the new 
young mistress had no intention of interfering 
with her right and privileges, while yet quietly 
competent to maintain her own ; she perceived 
that there was no diminution of the kindly in- 
terest and consideration which had always 
made her feel less like a servant than a “ reglah 
membah o’ de fambly ; ” and she was relieved 
to find that there were to be no unlawful raids 


A MYSTERY. 


101 


made on her premises by young folks suddenly 
released from constraint. 

“ ’Clah to grashus,” she announced in a burst 
of confidence one morning to her fellow-servant; 
“ nevah did see a dahtah in all my bawn days 
mo’ like her maw dan Miss Jocelyn is. I was 
feaht dey was gwine to be all kine o’ ’ructions 
in dis heah kitchen; but I was clean done mis- 
takened fo’ onct. She ac’s like jes what she is, 
a raal ole-time fust, fambly tide-watali Fahgin- 
yah lady ; an’ dat’s de kine I knows jes’ haow 
to git along wid.” 

“ I never ’spected nothin’ else myself,” was 
Mahaly’s response. “ I always knew I could 
get along all right with Miss Jocelyn. It’s she’s 
got the hardest time, poor young lady. She 
has her paw on her mind all the time, and them 
child’en. They try her right smart sometimes, 
’deed they do. It’s a deal o’ responsibility, but 
then, she’s done got religion long ago, you know, 
and they say that does help some folks.” 

“You talks like a heathen idol, Mahaly 
Byrd,” rejoined Aunt Peggy in a tone of severe 
reprobation. 

“ The}' says — ‘ why don’t ye go ’long up to the 
mo’nah’s bench an’ fine out fo’ yo’s’ef de powah 
o’ religion ? I’m sho’ ye needs it ev’ry hour.’ ” 

Mahaly smiled a meaning smile. “Well you 
see, Aunt Peggy,” she said, “ there’s religion an’ 


102 


in mother’s place. 


religion. Ef I was sure I could git the kind 
Miss Jocelyn’s got, that makes her so sweet and 
pleasant, and always thinkin’ of everybody else 
before herself, and try in’ to spread the sunshine 
all around her, why 1 believe I would try an’ 
git my courage up. But when I see some other 
folks’ religion, seems to me I’m most as well 
off bein’ a heathen idol, or whatever it was you 
called me ! ” 

Having laid which illogical salve to her con- 
science, and stuck what she considered a 
needed pin into the bladder of the old woman’s 
self-conceit, Mahaly took her tray of dishes 
upon her head and sailed out of the kitchen to 
put them away in their cupboard, before Aunt 
Peggy could get breath enough to retort. 

It was true enough however, what she said 
about “ the child’en trying ” her young lady. 
She had wielded her sceptre so prudently, had 
“ done her spiriting so gently,” that thus far 
there had been no positive outbreaks against 
her mild authority, no absolute rebellion in the 
nest. But her patience was exercised day by 
day with protests and petitions about this or 
that which they would have accepted as a 
matter of course with their mother ; with cavil- 
lings and objections which a smiling or an ex- 
postulating glance from her would have silenced 
at once; but which Jocelyn, not possessing the 


A MYSTERY. 


103 


magic charm which belongs essentially to loving 
motherhood,' was obliged to take into considera- 
tion, to argue with, and finally to enforce upon 
reluctant acquiescence. Little things, it is 
true, but Joe only jerked up his head and mut- 
tered “ chestnuts,” when she suggested that it 
was as possible for a boy as for a girl to be neat 
and orderly. That young gentleman, duly 
trained to fold up his napkin after meals and 
place it in his ring, began to find it easier now 
to let it fall crumpled upon the floor; also to rush 
down to breakfast, tying his cravat as he went, 
and never choosing to open either bed or 
window. The little girls too began to grumble 
at this regulation : 

“It takes so much time,” protested Jem, “ to 
take all the bed-clothes apart every morning. 
I don’t see what they want with so much air- 
ing;” and Janet complained: 

“ Yes, it gives me the shivers when I get into 
bed at night — the sheets are so cold ! ” 

But Jocelyn knew this was only an excuse 
for indolence, and good-humoredly insisted on 
her mother’s rules being kept in practice. 

When Joe growled, “’Tain’t boys’ business 
anyhow, it’s girls’ nonsense, to be fussing with 
table and bed linen,” she would answer play- 
fully, “Why boys want to be gentlemen, Joe, 
just as much as girls do to be ladies, and neat- 


104 


in mother’s place. 


ness and cleanliness are just as much a neces- 
sity with one as with the other. Do as I want 
you, dear, that’s a good fellow; and one of 
these days a certain dear little Somebody will 
say ‘ I declare, Joe, you certainly were well- 
brought up at home! You’ve got such nice 
orderly ways ! ’ ” 

And Joe would redden in spite of himself, 
and say “Oh go ’long!” and gb himself to do 
what was desired ; or if he happened to be in 
a contrary mood, there would be sulks and 
slamming of doors. 

The mother had been perhaps over indulgent 
in the gratification of their various fancies as to 
their food and drink: “It isn’t so very much 
trouble,” she would say, “ to remember what 
one likes and what another doesn’t ; and I do 
love to see people pleased and cheerful around 
my table ! ” But if it sometimes chanced, as 
will happen in the best regulated families, that 
a dinner or breakfast might be less popular than 
another, the disinclination to “ make mother 
feel bad ” availed to prevent any decided show 
of disapprobation. 

But with poor Jocelyn it was different. She 
was promptly made to feel her shortcomings if 
eacli individual taste was not separately con- 
sulted ; and she sometimes found herself re bell- 


A MYSTEKY. 


105 


ing against the imposition upon her memory 
and her ingenuity. 

“ I wonder what you would do, young peo- 
ple,” she expostulated one morning, when no- 
body seemed to be exactly suited, “ if you were 
brought up as Nathalie Rothberg’s father was. 
You know her mother was a cousin of our 
mother’s, and she married him in Washington 
where he was an attach^ to the Austrian lega- 
tion, and went abroad with him when he re- 
turned to Vienna. Well Nathalie told me a 
good deal about the foreign way of doing things, 
when I met her at her mother’s house in Peters- 
burgh last summer. And about this one mat- 
ter of the table, she told me that when her 
father was a boy at home, if ever there was any- 
thing which he didn’t like and declined to take, 
her grandfather required him to make his entire 
meal of that one dish, or go without anything 
until he was hungry enough to eat it. And it 
would be brought on again and again, until he 
had got over what they called his silly objection 
to good food, and learned to eat anything that 
was set before him. Now what in this world 
would you all do, if any such rule was estab- 
lished in this house ? ” 

“ Do ? fight it every time and all the time ! ” 
asserted Joe, in his most pugnacious manner. 
“ Nobody would ever force me to eat what I 


106 


in mother’s place. 


didn’t like, and if I starved to death the law 
would see to that ! ” 

“ Oh what nonsense ! ” laughed Jocelyn. 
“ You’d find the thought of the law avenging 
you, wouldn’t make the process of starving any 
more agreeable. I guess you’d compromise 
with the plum-and-fish soup, which I believe was 
the special article of Baron Rothberg's aversion.” 

“ 4 Plum-and-fish soup ! ’ Who ever heard of 
such a mess ? I don’t believe I ever could have 
swallowed it ! ” protested Jem. Janet said 
appealingly, “ And I don’t believe our father 
would ever have been so unkind as to make 
us ! ” 

“Why discuss the subject? There is no 
question about it,” interposed Juliet in a cold 
decided tone, but her father, roused from his 
paper by the animated voices, put in his rare 
word. 

“Well, I don’t know,” he said, answering 
Janet’s loyal little assertion of trust in him, 
“ but that it might be the truest kindness to es- 
tablish some such rule as that. I’m afraid you 
are all getting too notional in your tastes. The 
gratification of one’s palate isn’t of half as 
much consequence as good feeling and cheer- 
fulness about a table ; and we ought to show 
all possible consideration for a young house- 
keeper who is doing her best, as your sister is. 


A MYSTERY. 


107 


Don’t let us have any more of this sort of 
thing, please.” And so it ended for that time. 

As time passed on things had settled them- 
selves down into orderly routine again; Jocetyn 
got on comfortably enough through the mornings. 
Only little Jessie was at home then, and trot- 
ted about the house with her sister, hindering, 
it is true, rather than helping, in her various 
duties, but gradually growing to look upon her 
as in her mother’s place, and being on the 
whole obedient and loving. But she had 
learned to shrink a little from the onslaught of 
the others into her peaceful room, when, tired of 
the restraints of school, they came rushing 
up, prepared to enjoy freedom to the utmost. 
A host of wishes and demands were instantly 
let loose upon her : “ Jocelyn, can’t I have a 

piece of cake and an orange ? ” 

“ But Joe, the oranges are for dessert.” 

“Well, why don’t you get more of them 
then ? ” 

“ But Joe, papa says the housekeeping must 
be kept within such and such a limit.” 

“ O pshaw ! I know mother always used to 
have an orange for a fellow when he wanted 
it! ” 

“Because she put her own by for you half the 
time, then,” Jem would interpose. “Jocelyn, 
won’t you just mend this tear in my skirt; I 


108 in mother’s place. 

caught it on a nail, and I can’t darn fit to be 
seen ? ” 

“Yes, rushing along like a tomboy,” Joe 
would sieze the chance of retorting. 

“ Jocelyn ! ” Janet would come in, as soon as 
she could find an opportunity, “ Need I prac- 
tice this afternoon ? I’ve got something else to 
do I like a great deal better than that old music 
anyhow!” And Juliet would rejoin incisively, 
“For your own sake, Janet, if you are so dull 
as not to appreciate music, don’t publish the 
fact ; keep it to yourself.” 

“ Oh but you don’t know, you don’t any of 
you know,” put in Jem, on one such occasion 
as this, looking very wise and mischievous; 
“ what it is that Janet likes doing so much 
better than practicing I could tell you, for I 
have guessed — 

But Janet turned upon her suddenly, redden- 
ning furiously, and with unwonted spirit flashing 
in her great soft eyes : “You don’t know, any 
such thing,” she cried passionately, almost in 
tears. “ You haven’t any right even to try to 
guess ; it is none of your affair ; it is only my 
business. And if you have been trying to find 
out, it was prying; I wouldn’t be a Paul Pry, 
Jem!” 

.“ Oh gently, gently ! Don’t call names, 
Janet,” interposed Jocelyn ; “ and Jem, you 


A MYSTERY. 


109 


mustn’t try to intrude upon another’s private 
matters, and if you discover them accidentally, 
you must never betray them. Go now, and do 
your practicing, that’s a good girl, Janet; you 
wouldn’t want to hurt Miss Kerr’s feelings by 
letting her see you wouldn’t take the trouble to 
prepare your lesson for her. And you, Jem, go 
put on another dress and bring that one to me 
if you want me to mend it for you.” 

But as she sat deftly bringing together the 
edges of the great jagged rent, and at the same 
time arbitrating various points of discussion in 
a game of “ tit-tat-to ” between Jem and Jessie, 
she was pondering in her heart whether it would 
not be better for Janet to give up her music 
than to go on unwillingly with a study in which 
she took no interest; and conjecturing what 
could be the secret pursuit for which she felt 
such fondness, and with regard to which she 
had shown such sensitive shyness. 

She did not like mysteries and secrets in a 
family ; she wondered if it was quite best to 
allow them ; if she ought not to attempt to gain 
Janet’s confidence on what seemed to be a mat- 
ter of such deep feeling. But she felt that 
after all, she could not possibly mistrust the 
gentle girl, whose chief fault was a certain pen- 
sive indolence and self-absorption, which threat- 
ened, if unchecked, to become selfishness, one 


110 


IN mother’s place. 


of these days ; and moreover, she was too deli- 
cate-minded not to shrink from unwelcome in- 
trusion upon even a child’s sensitive personality. 

Jem however, was not troubled with any such 
fine scruples ; her “ bump ” of curiosity was 
very largely developed, and she had won the 
unflattering soubriquet of Paul Pry more than 
once by her unwarrantable interest in other 
people’s affairs. Not all her mother’s expostu- 
lations and warnings had availed as yet to 
eradicate her keen scent for anything like a 
mystery ; her intense desire to know what every- 
body around her was doing, to hear what they 
were saying ; and Janet’s secret absorption in 
some unexplained occupation had for some time 
been the source of much tantalizing concern to 
her. 

She had made excuses to follow her up-stairs, 
when she had heard Janet slip softly up to her 
room after the regulation number of scales 
and exercises had been reluctantly rehearsed ; 
had claimed the right of equal proprietorship 
to insist upon having the door opened ; and had 
listened eagerly to certain rustling sounds, as 
of papers hurriedly thrust away, while waiting 
outside for the key to turn in the lock. 

“ I should like to know what in the world 
you want to shut yourself in here in this sort 
of way for?” she would say, looking curiously 


A MYSTERY. 


Ill 


around, in a fever of desire to discover the 
mystery ; but there was never any visible sign 
of unusual occupation going on. Janet’s book 
would be lying turned down open, on her chair, 
and Janet herself would betray nothing more 
than ordinary annoyance at interruption : 

“ Of course you ‘ would like to know ’ Jem ; 
you always do. But what is there so strange 
in my wanting to have a little quiet time to 
myself after all the bustle in school all day ? 
And what is the objection to my having it in my 
own room ? ” 

“But it is my room too,” Jem would rejoin, 
“ and you have no right to lock the door 
against me!” 

“I always open it when you want to come in.” 

“ Yes, but you wait till you do something, I 
don’t know what! And I just think it’s real 
mean of you, Janet, to have secrets from your 
own sister!” poor Jem would urge, almost with 
tears. But Janet would only look passive, and 
wait in resigned patience till little Miss Inquisi- 
tive would rush away baffled and offended, only 
to try the experiment again at some future 
season. 

One day she had chosen to feel herself espe- 
cially aggrieved ; it was Saturday morning ; the 
little weekly allowance of spending money 
which had been one of their mother’s wise pro- 


112 


IN mother’s place. 


visions, was jingling in their little purses, and 
Jem was coaxing Janet to go down town with 
her to make sundry small but important pur- 
chases. 

“I wish you would go with Jocelyn and 
Jessie, Jem,” her sister answered reluctantly: 
“ I’m not ready just yet.” 

“Well, I’ll wait for j^ou. You are going, 
sometime this morning, aren’t you ? ” 

“ Yes — but — you run on now with them, 
Jem, why don’t you ? ” 

Jem’s open little countenance took on a 
mortified expression. 

“Because I’d rather go with you, Janet!” 
she blurted out, almost ready to cry. “ I don’t 
know what’s come over you lately; we always 
used to do everything and go everywhere to- 
gether, and mother wanted us to, too. But 
now you act so strange ; you keep away from 
me, and I don’t believe you love me one single 
bit anymore ! ” 

Janet looked annoyed: “ Oh yes, Jem, I do 
love you just as much as ever,” she said; “but 
you bother me ; you want to know every- 
thing.” 

“ Well, why shouldn’t I ? What do you 
want to have secrets for? You’re just going 
off all by yourself to buy something you’re not 


A MYSTERY. 


113 


going to tell about, — and I think it’s real mean, 
and selfish, and unkind ! ” 

“ It’s easy to call names, but it’s not very 
nice,” rejoined Janet coldly, turning away and 
beginning to ascend the stairs ; while poor little 
Jem, puzzled and discomfited, was fain to run 
on and overtake her other sisters, and pour out 
her chagrin into Jocelyn’s kind ear. 

As they were returning from their various 
errands an hour or two later, they met Miss 
Kerr the girls’ music-teacher, at their own 
gate. 

“Do you think your sisters would mind tak- 
ing their lessons this morning instead of at the 
usual hour, Miss Jerome ? ” she asked. “ I 
have an invitation for this afternoon I’d like to 
accept.” 

“ Why no,” said Jocelyn ; “ come right in. I 
think they’ll be glad to accommodate you. 
Run up, Jem, please, and see which can come 
first, Juliet or Janet.” 

Juliet was busy with something which she 
did not wish to lay aside . till it was finished, 
and Jem went on to her own room. As usual 
nowadays she found the door locked, and she 
rattled the knob with considerable asperity. 

“ Open the door right away, Janet,” she 

called ; “ and come down and take your music - 
8 


114 


IN motheb’s place. 


lesson. Miss Kerr is going out this afternoon, 
and she wants to give it to you now.” 

“ Oh dear ! ” came a desperate sigh from 

within. “Just as I was 

The sentence broke off tantalizingly in the 
middle, and was followed by the same rustling 
of paper which had so often puzzled Jem’s in- 
quisitive ears. A moment after the door 
opened and Janet appeared with a disconsolate 
face. 

“ Don’t feel very obliging to-day, do you ? ” 
said Jem, giving her a keen glance. “Don’t 
seem to me such a dreadful hardship to accom- 
modate your teacher for once. She hasn’t any 
too many pleasures in her life, I guess.” 

Janet passed on without making any reply, 
and Jemima added to herself, “And it beats me 
to know what on earth you’re up to, that you 
hate so to be interrupted ! ” 

She sent a sharper glance than usual round 
the simple little bed chamber. There was 
nothing noticeable to be observed. The two 
drawers in the bureau which belonged to Janet 
were only partly closed, after her wonted in- 
dolent fashion ; her portfolio, work-box, dress- 
ing case, all her little possessions, birthday and 
Christmas tokens, were in full sight, and there 
was no clue apparent to the mystery which 
Jem was so eager to solve. Except — yes, that 


A MYSTERY. 


115 


was rather a queer-looking parcel, so long and 
flat, done up in brown paper, which lay on the 
top of a little trunk in the corner beside the 
bureau. 

“That is what she went out to buy all by her- 
self this morning ! ” exclaimed Jem to herself, 
pouncing eagerly upon it. “ What in the world 
can it be? It feels thick and smooth, like 
paper. The string is untied — I don’t see why 
I shouldn’t take a peep: it’s all nonsense, 
Janet’s beginning to have secrets from me ! ” 

And curiosity getting the better of con- 
science in the matter, “ Miss Inquisitive ” turned 
back a corner of the brown wrapping, and dis- 
covered simply a quire of cheap foolscap writing 
paper. 

“Well! what on earth can she want with 
that?” speculated Jemima, her curiosity no 
whit appeased. 

“ It was always the rustling of paper I heard, 
— yes, and there’s a pile of pencil-sharpenings 
on the floor — just like her to leave all those 
chips there ! She must have been writing a 
lot, but what ? She does her French exercises 
at school, in a blank-book ; and all these 
great big sheets — mercy ! The idea of spend- 
ing her money for them ! What can it 
mean ? ” 

A thought struck her as she slowly re- 


116 


in mother’s place. 


folded the brown wrapping-paper, and pre- 
pared to replace it where she had found it. 

“ Why did she leave it here on this trunk, 
instead of on the table ? I think I’ll take a 
peep in this same little trunk. I haven’t been 
in it for a long time.” 

Now the trunk was a little old-fashioned, 
hair-covered receptacle, which had belonged to 
their father when he was a young man, and 
which for years had been made over to the lit- 
tle girls as a place of deposit for all their odds 
and ends, broken dolls, discarded playthings, 
tattered picture-books, etc., etc. They had 
both sometime ago “ put away childish things ” 
of that sort, and the little old trunk had stood 
there in its out-of-the-way corner, unopened 
for months, so far as Jemima was aware. 
Some unaccountable impulse made her lift the 
lid now, when to her surprise, instead of a dis- 
orderly huddle of indiscriminate objects as of 
old, the various contents were disposed as com- 
pactly as their nature permitted in the lower 
part of the trunk ; a large newspaper was laid 
smoothly over them, and within the folds of 
another, promptly opened by Jem’s lawless 
little fingers, lay several more sheets of the 
same foolscap paper. These however were 
quite covered with pencilled writing in which 


A MYSTERY. 


117 


Jem at once recognized Janet’s unformed child- 
ish scrawl. 

44 Well ! if I ever ! ” was Paul Pry’s exclama- 
tion, as she eagerly held up the topmost sheet 
and began to decipher the heading. 44 So that’s 
the wonderful secret, is it, Janet — our Janet, — 
turned authoress ! That’s what’s come of her 
for ever poking over story-books, — she’s gone 
trying to write ’em herself. If I ever, ever did ! 
Janet ! Why she is but eleven years old ! The 
very idea ! What does she know about writ- 
ing stories ? But it looks like one, I declare ; 
here’s the name and all, just the way it is in a 
book, only not printed : let me see — 

44 THE MAGIC RIVERS.” 

H’m! Sounds like some o’ those fairy tales, 
or allegories, or things, in the Readers at school. 
I just wonder if she isn’t only copying them 
to help her handwriting, maybe. Need’s it, 
I’m sure ; I believe it’s worse than mine. Well 
— let’s see ! ” 

And she settled herself deliberately on the 
floor beside the little trunk which poor Janet 
had fondly supposed was an ark of safety, and 
secure in the certainty of Janet’s being safe for 
half an hour, began to decipher the story. 

She was undisturbed for some time, for 


118 


IN mother’s place. 


Juliet was busy putting the frills in the neck 
and sleeves of her Sunday gown ; Janet was 
deep in the intricacies of a minor scale ; Joe 
was off on his Saturday rambles with his boy- 
mates; and Jessie was laying claim upon' Joce- 
lyn after a new fashion. 

She had come trotting after her sister as 
she went into the colonnade to make up her 
week’s marketing-book. There was an old- 
fashioned desk there, mounted upon a platform, 
which had been arranged for the use of a gover- 
ness years ago, when Mrs. Jerome had thought 
the children too young to walk the distance 
to school in all weathers. The pretty young 
governess took it into her head to get married, 
when Jem was about five years old and pos- 
sessed of a very sturdy little pair of legs, and an 
indefinite taste for activity and change. So it 
was decided that they should all go to school 
together, instead of studying at home, and the 
desk had been put where it would be least in 
the way, and yet convenient to the kitchen if 
the housekeeper wished to refresh her memory 
by Aunt Peggy’s aid. Jocelyn kept her receipt- 
books there, and her account-books, and was 
busy adding up certain columns of figures rela- 
tive to household expenses, when Jessie came 
trotting in with a look of importance on her 
bright little face. 


A MYSTERY. 


119 


“ Dessie’s made up her mind she’s goin’ to say 
her lessons like the other chil’ren,” she stated 
gravely. “ Aunt Peggy says Dessie’s a great 
big girl now, an’ she ought to be ashamed not 
to know how to read her book. So she's made 
up her mind she’s goin’ to school, but not to any 
cross old teacher like Jem’s. You got to be 
Dessie’s teacher, Dottelyn.” 

“ It’s lazy scholars make cross teachers, I 
guess, Jessie,” answered her sister, still running 
her pencil down the column. “ And besides, 
it’s Saturday, you know, and there isn’t any 
school Saturdays.” 

“ Well, never mind; — there’s lessons,” urged 
the little one, possessed to carry out her new 
fancy. “’Cause Janet’s takin’ a lesson now. 
And I want you to hear me say mine. I been 
studyin’ it hard ; I can spell ‘ba-by — ’ doll- 
' baby ! Now, there ! ” 

Jocelyn laughed. She had verified her addi- 
tion, it was correct, and now she was willing to 
humor the winsome little creature who had 
come to seem as much child as sister to her. 

“ Here’s my book — you must take it,” said 
Jessie ; “and I must stand here in front of you, 
and I must put my hands behind me, the way 
the little chil’en does at school, — and you 
mustn’t laugh now, Dottelyn ! This ain’t play, 


120 


IN mother’s place. 


— this is real-’nuff school! now — give me out a 
word to spell — ” 

But just then, a rush of footsteps was heard 
racing down the stairs; an eager voice called 
“Jocelyn! O, Jocelyn! where are you?” and 
Jem came bursting into the improvised school- 
room, waving a sheaf of papers over her head, 
and crying out half in mockery, half in tri- 
umph, 

“O Jocelyn! what do you think? Would 
you believe it, we have an authoress in the 
family? And who do you think it is? Janet! 
I’ve found out her wonderful secret I ” 


CHAPTER VI. 


THE MYSTERY UNRAVELLED. 

B UT before Jocelyn, surprised and puzzled, 
could ask what was the meaning of all this, 
the little apartment was raided again. Jem had 
not noticed in her excitement that the parlor 
door was just opening, as she flew down-stairs ; 
but Janet, coming out from her lesson, had 
looked after her in amazement as she whirled 
through the hall toward the colonnade, and had 
heard the loud and reckless betrayal of her se- 
cret — the rude publication of a precious and 
sacred thing which the shy and sensitive child 
had kept hidden in her breast as the arbutus 
hides its faint sweet blooms under the forest 
leaves, and had never revealed it except in 
timid blushing confidence to her dear dead 
mother. 

She had been so happy in her work ; such 
strange bright thoughts kept weaving them- 
selves, day and night, in and out of her brain ; 
it had been such pleasant labor to try to write 
them out on paper ; and the loving interest and 
approbation which her mother had given to 

( 121 ) 


122 


in mother’s place. 


these childish efforts had been so sweet ! She 
had begged her not to speak of it. 

“ I couldn’t bear to have them all exclaiming 
and asking questions, and teasing, mother,” she 
had pleaded. “ It’s a different thing with you 
— but there isn’t any need, is there for the others 
to know? Just let it be your and my secret ! ” 

And her mother, understanding the shy, sen- 
sitive nature, had yielded to her wish. 

“I don’t like secrets in a family, you know, 
dear,” she had said. “ They are apt to make ill 
feeling, one way or another ; but this — well, we 
won’t speak of it, until your are surer of your- 
self. I think I feel sure of the others now ; I 
don’t believe but that they would be proud and 
pleased, just as mother is, my little girl. And if 
they teased a little, why that means nothing, 
and young folks in a big family must learn to 
give and take.” 

“ Ah well, I wouldn’t like to be teased about 
this,” Janet had urged, her face* all in a shy 
glow, and her mother had respected her right to 
the privacy of her own innermost thoughts and 
feelings. 

But now an impertinent little hand had in- 
vaded this sacred privacy ; a reckless little 
tongue was proclaiming her precious secret to 
all her small world. For she saw Joe coming 
across the lawn toward the colonnade door in 


THE MYSTERY UNRAVELLED. 


123 


search of lunch, doubtless, and little thinking 
what a titbit was in store for his fun-loving 
soul. And there was Juliet coming down the 
stairs for her lesson — she would go to see what 
all the fuss was about, and her cool, sarcastic 
way of taking it would be worse even than 
Joe’s teasing, — oh, it was wicked, it was cruel, 
it was everything, of Jem ! 

Thought is swifter than lightning, and all 
this was as one burning flash to poor Janet's 
mind. In a white heat of anger and shame she 
flew along the hall after the author of her con- 
fusion, and appeared, meteor-like, in the midst 
of the group. 

“ Give me my papers, give them to me this 
instant ! ” she cried, her face pale with passion 
and with pain, and gripping Jem’s arm as it 
whirled the manuscript over her head, in a 
grasp as of a vise. “ Give them to me, I say, 
you mean, prying creature, you Paul Pry — you 
—you—” 

But words failed to express her sense of out- 
rage, to relieve her tempest of anger and pain ; 
being taller than her younger sister she quickly 
recovered her property from Jem’s mischievous 
hand, only adding: 

“ I shall appeal to my father ; I shall see if I 
am not to be protected — ” 

She rushed like a whirlwind from the room 


124 


IN mother’s place. 


and sped up to the very top of the house, to 
the old unused garret, where amid dust and 
cobwebs she threw herself down and gave way 
to the passion of tears and sobs which alone 
could give relief to her overmastering emotion. 

Meanwhile Jem, discomfited and disconcerted, 
stood stranded in the middle of the floor, look- 
ing round with rather a foolish smile upon the 
group which had gathered there at the sound 
of high words. 

“ For pity’s sake ! What a tempest she is 
when she gets roused ! ” she said. “ How could 
I imagine she would make such a fuss just about 
my telling she wrote stories ! I’m sure I wish 
I could ! I would not be hiding them away in 
an old trunk, and locking the door, and never 
letting anybody know ! I think it’s awful smart 
of her — I should be proud — ” 

“Well you need something to be proud of 
just now, sure enough, Jem,” said Joe, looking 
at her, his honest, freckled face full of contempt. 
“ So you’ve been poking about into other peo- 
ple’s affairs again, and then blabbing ! You are 
a regular Paul Pry, and no mistake about it, 
now, ain’t you ? I can tell you, I for one, am 
not very proud of you, just now ! ” and, Master 
Joe, having delivered himself to this effect, 
marched off to the kitchen, to see what he could 


THE MYSTERY UNRAVELLED. 


125 


coax out of Aunt Peggy in the way of a mid- 
day “snack.” 

“ What a tempest in a tea-pot all this seems 
to be ! ” commented Juliet, who had come in 
too late to gather a full apprehension of the 
matter. “ I think I shall go and take my music- 
lesson. But really, Jocelyn, why don’t you 
make Jem let things alone — ” She walked off 
without completing her sentence, and Jem re- 
mained standing, twisting her fingers together 
in discomfiture at the flat ending to her own ex- 
citement. She found the severe glance which 
her older sister directed toward her anything 
but agreeable. 

“ I wish you wouldn’t look at me that way, 
Jocelyn,” she broke out, “ as if I had done 
something perfectly dreadful! I guess you 
wouldn’t like to have your room locked against 
you even if you did happen to share it with an 
authoress. Of course I wanted to know what 
she was always staying off by herself for nowa- 
days, when we used to play and to do every- 
thing together. If it was anything disgraceful 
I had found out— but something to be proud 
of—” 

“Oh, but Jem,” Jocelyn almost groaned ; 
“If I could only make you understand that 
you have no right to ‘find out’ things at all! 
That people have just as much ownership in 


126 


in mother’s place. 


their thoughts and their feelings and their do- 
ings, if they are not wrong, and that is not for 
you to pry into — as they have in their books or 
their clothes or their money, or anything ! If 
you would only see that you have actually 
robbed Janet of something she prized — ” 

But here Jem interrupted indignantly, her 
round open face flushing very red; 

“Now Jocelyn,” she protested, “I can’t take 
that sort of talk, not even from you. It’s the 
first time I ever heard a Jerome accused of 
being a — a — I won’t even say the word ! ” she 
added proudly. 

But Jocelyn persisted. “ I have no wish to 
say the word either, Jem, but I must do what 
I can to make you see how really dishonorable 
such pryings and meddlings are. If you don’t 
check this dreadful curiosity of yours you will 
certainly get into some trouble one of these 
days which will hurt you as much as you hurt 
poor Janet to-day. And I’m afraid ” 

“ I didn’t mean to hurt Janet ! ” broke in 
the culprit, her face puckering up, and beginning 
to cry. “ I reckon I love Janet just as well as 
any of you, even if she don’t seem to love me 
any more ! I didn’t suppose — I never thought 
— I just wanted to show you all what pretty 
things she could write. I thought you’d all be 


THE MYSTERY UNRAVELLED. 


127 


pleased, and then she’d be pleased too. And 
instead of that ” 

“But don’t you see; that’s just the point,” 
urged her sister more gently. “ You had no 
right to do anything of this sort without 
Janet’s permission. I know you love Janet, 
and I know she loves you too; you mustn’t 
think she doesn’t — and you didn’t mean to 
hurt her. But you were so excited at having 
your curiosity satisfied that you didn’t mean 
not to ; and I’m afraid you have hurt her, 
worse than if you had torn up her favorite 
story-book, or spilled ink on her beloved auto- 
graph-album. If you can’t realize it yourself, 
you must take the word of an older person, 
who understands things better, and make your- 
self feel that it is so.” 

Jem wiped her eyes disconsolately with the 
corner of her little white apron. 

“ I s’pose I shall have to feel it,” she said 
contritely, “since you all make such a time 
about it. Mercy ! I never thought Janet 
could get into such a fury ! And I should be 
so proud if it was me ; — Joe, too, he had to 
look at me as if I wasn’t any bigger in his 
sight than, than — a pin ; ” and the little fair 
freckled face flushed again at the remembrance 
of her brother’s loftily disapproving glance. 
“And you were all so busy despising me, 


128 


IN mother’s place. 


you didn’t take time to think what you’ve got 
to be proud of. I tell you, Jocelyn, that was 
an awful nice kind of a story, the one I brought 
down here. You just ought to coax Janet to let 
you read it, now the dreadful deed is done, and 
everybody knows. I s’pose she’s off some- 
where crying, and I s’pose she wouldn’t let me 
go near her. If she would, I’d go and tell her 
how sorry I am — I am sorry ” 

The childish voice broke, and Jocelyn drew 
the contrite little figure toward her, and put 
her arm kindly about the little shoulders that 
shook with sobbing. 

“ I guess she would get over it if you told 
her so,” she said consolingly, and then, her 
tone becoming very grave : “ But I wish, 

dear, I could feel* that you felt sorry for having 
done wrong as well as for having hurt Janet ; 
then I should feel more hopeful for the future. 
You know what I mean, Jem ; you go to church 
and to Sunday-school; you know who is dis- 
pleased when you let a fault grow upon you, 
and who would help you to overcome it. If 
you would only begin to think about yourself, 
and what you do, and what you are, in real 
good earnest ; if you wouldn’t just think of 
what you learn there as a sermon to be heard, 
a lesson to be said, but try to bring it into 
your own life ” 


THE MYSTERY UNRAVELLED. 


129 


“You do, don’t you, Jocelyn,” sighed poor, 
discomfited Jem, as her sister paused, herself a 
little shy in speaking openly of such things. 
“Indeed, I think you are real good, J. J., 
’most as good as mother was her own self.” 

“ Oh no, no ; I am only trying,” interposed 
the young girl hastily, “ and you will promise 
me to try, won’t you, Jem ? Try the right 
way, I mean ; well then, there’s a kiss for this 
time, and don’t let there be any next time like 
this, I beg of you ! Now I am going to look 
for poor little Janet, and you must finish hear- 
ing Jessie’s lesson. We were having a nice 
time playing school, weren’t we, little one ? ” 

Jocelyu mounted up to the third story to 
Janet’s room, but Janet was not there, nor in 
Joe’s nor Juliet’s chamber. The door at the 
top of the garret stairs was unlatched however, 
and Jocelyn climbed up the steep steps, and 
stood for a moment looking round the big un- 
used apartment, where the light came dimly 
through the dusty windows, where cobwebs 
hung in flimsy festoons from the rafters, and 
the sound of the pigeons cooing in the eaves 
seemed just at one's ear. 

Another sound more mournful still than their 
brooding melancholy note struck upon her 
listening ear, the low tired sob of a child worn 
out with crying, and sending her glance in the 


130 


IN mother’s place. 


direction from which it came, she espied the 
luckless little authoress huddled down in one 
of the deep dormer windows, and looking the 
picture of angry woe. 

Jocelyn sat down on the floor beside her and 
drew the pale, tear-stained face upon her breast. 
Janet would have pulled it away, but her sister 
kept her arm about her, and stroked the wet 
cheeks with loving hand. “ Poor little girl, it 
was too bad, too bad,” she said in her comfort- 
ing voice. “ But don’t cry any more now, 
dearie,” as the sobs began to come thicker and 
faster again ; “ she is just as sorry and ashamed 
as you can want her to be, poor little meddle- 
some Jem ; and I think it will be a lesson to 
her, will help her to try to get the better of 
her curiosity ” 

“ Yes, maybe ; but that won’t undo the mis- 
chief she’s done!” cried Janet, her passionate 
resentment but little abated by this representa- 
tion. 

“No, not exactly,” yielded Jocelyn, still 
stroking the tear-stained face, and the ruffled 
hair with soothing touch. 

“ But since it is done and can’t be undone, I 
am sure you wouldn’t wish to bear malice, and 
will let her being sorry count for something. 
And what may comfort you more than that, 
Janet dear, let’s look at it all a minute, and see 


THE MYSTERY UNRAVELLED 


131 


if, except for the annoyance of Jem’s prying 
and telling without your permission, there is 
anything so terrible about it after all ! Why, 
my clever little sister, why should you mind so 
very much letting us all know what a gift you 
possess ! Don’t you know we should all be 
pleased and proud about it, of course ! ” 

“ Oh, don’t, Jocelyn!” protested the child, 
and Jocelyn felt the little reddening face grow 
hot against her shoulder. “ Gift, indeed ! I’ve 
got no gift, — I only wish I had ! I’d rather be 
able to write than to play or sing or paint, or, 
anything else in the world. But I can’t — 
it’s only that things come into my head, and I 
like to put them down as well as I can. And 
it makes me happy — or it used to! — and it does 
nobody any harm, and I thought I had a right 
to keep it to my own self if I wanted to.” 

“Yes — but why did you want to, so very 
much, dear ? ” 

“ Oh because — because— Jocelyn, if you ever 
did it yourself you’d understand ! Your poor 
little thoughts — why, they’re just a part of 
yourself ; you don’t want to have ’em dragged 
out, and maybe, made fun of, and repeated, and 
thrown up at you if you don’t live quite up to 
them! Joe would tease, I know; and Jem 
would chatter, and Juliet would look away off 
over the top of my head, ” 


132 


IN mother’s place. 


“ And I, what would I do, dear ? ” J ocelyn’s 
voice had a little accent of reproach in it. 

“ Oh, you would think I was a silly girl, I 
expect ; because I suppose the things are silly ; 
and you would all feel as if I was setting up to 
be different, or something ” 

“ On the contrary, my dear, I shouldn’t have 
thought you silly at all. I’m very glad to 
know you have the taste for such an innocent 
and pleasant way of passing your time, and I 
think, even if it should never come to anything 
more, it will help you to write neat-looking and 
interesting letters. And as for the others, I 
think you’re mistaken about them too, dear : 
I’m afraid you are a little over-sensitive, and 
that is a pity for any one, because it makes one 
suspicious and ready to take offence when none 
is intended, or if it is meant, to feel it more 
keenly than is worth while. I rather think, 
little girl, that if we should find we had a 
genius in the family we should be very proud 
of it ! And if all poor little Jem says about 
your work is true, I really think we have reason 
to be proud. Come now, be good, try to get 
over it, won’t you, and let sister see your little 
story. She don’t like to feel that she is kept 
out of anything that is so much in your life, 
Janet ! ” 


THE MYSTERY UNRAVELLED. 133 

The child hesitated still, shifting the crum- 
pled sheets of paper uneasily in her hands. 

“ I never showed them to any body but, but 
mother,” she faltered. “ I knew she, she 
would ” 

“And I will too, darling,” said Jocelyn, 
divining the rest of the sentence. “ I will 
understand too, and be interested, and sympa- 
thize if you will let me. I want to be as much 
like mother to all of you as I can, Janet! But 
you must remember I have lost her too, and I 
need you all to love me ” 

Her own voice broke a little, and Janet, 
touched by this sudden new thought with 
regard to her big, grown-up sister, threw her 
arms impulsively about her neck and kissed 
her. 

“ I do love you, Jocelyn,” she said ; “ I do 
think you are good and sweet, and I will let 
you read my foolish little story if you want to. 
I don't know whether you can make it out; it is 
only in pencil, and such a scrawl — but there it 
is!” 

She put the crumpled roll into Jocelyn’s 
hand, and getting up from her cramped posture 
on the floor walked shyly away to a window at 
the other end of the long low-raftered room, 
and stood looking nervously out upon the tree- 
tops tossing in the high spring wind. 


134 


in mother’s place. 


Her sister smoothed out the creased pages, 
and settled herself back against the wall to de- 
cipher the unformed childish writing as best 
she might : we will take the privilege of look- 
ing over her shoulder and reading with her ! 

“THE MAGIC RIVERS.”* 

“ Oh dear ! if I only could run away and not 
go to school any more,” said Sara as she was 
slowly walking down the road one day. “ I just 
wish I could run away to some place where I 
wouldn’t have to do anything unless I wanted 
to.” 

And saying this, she stopped on the bridge 
to watch the gurgling stream as it flowed over 
the rocks. 

She had been leaning on the rail of the 
bridge when suddenly it gave way and splash ! 
she went into the water; down, down, down, 
she went, and landed right in the midst of a 
lovely green meadow. 

Suddenly she heard a musical little voice, 
though she could see nothing, but soon she saw 
approaching her a band of beautiful little peo- 
ple no taller than a pin, but as lovely as they 
could be. They took her to a beautiful palace 


* The stories ascribed to Janet in tins volume are the work of a 
dear and gifted little friend of the writer, Jennie Curtis Appleby 
of Washington, D. C., who is just Jauet’s age. 


THE MYSTERY UNRAVELLED. 


135 


all lighted up, and presently a fairy stepped out 
of the door, touched Sarah with her wand, and lo, 
she grew smaller and smaller until she was just 
as small as the little people themselves. 
“ Come,” said the queen (for that was the 
title of the one who came out of the palace), 
“come with me and I will show you a sight you 
never saw before.” 

Sara followed the fairy queen to a lovely 
garden filled with violets, roses, pansies, and 
heliotrope. 

“ Oh, what beauties ! ” exclaimed Sara. “ I 
have never seen such lovely flowers before. 
But the violets are prettiest of all, and how 
sweet they smell ! ” 

“ Yes,” said one of the little * maids of 
honor; “violets are the sweetest of all, for 
they are her majesty’s favorite flower.” 

But here the queen said, “ Come with me ; I 
have something to show’ you.” Sara was 
wondering what it was, when they came to the 
bank of a river. 

“This is the river of Idleness,” said the 
queen, “look into it.” 

Sara looked, and down in the bottom (for it 
was clear as crystal), she saw drunken ragged 
men and women and half naked children 
with matted hair. Some of the men with 
pipes in their mouths leaned against houses, 


136 


IN mother’s place. 


some of the women sprawled on the sidewalks, 
others were engaged in angry brawls, but all 
were dirty, ragged, and unhappy. 44 Oh ! ” 
said Sara, 44 take me away. I have seen 
enough.” 

44 Follow me,” said the queen, 44 1 have some- 
thing else to show you.” 

44 Oh, please don’t ! ” cried Sara, in an agony. 

44 1 think you will like it,” said the queen, 
44 so come along.” 

Sara was encouraged by this, so she went 
without saying any more, and soon they came to 
another river. 

44 This,” said the queen, 44 is the river of In- 
dustry,” and looking down through the clear 
sparkling water she saw little ants and squir- 
rels laying in their winter stores, and bright, 
neatly- dressed boys and girls going to school. 
The men were all healthy and fine -looking, the 
women pleasant and tidy, and everybody 
seemed gay and happy, while the birds sang 
and the squirrels dropped nuts from the trees. 
From here the queen took Sara to the bed of 
violets, and picking some of the prettiest 
handed them to her. Just then a breathless 
little page came running up and dropped at the 
queen’s feet, exclaiming 44 Your Majesty, Fairy 
Sunbeam has just returned from her tour 


THE MYSTERY UNRAVELLED. 137 

around the world, and awaits you in the 
parlor.” 

“ She will have to wait a little while,” replied 
the queen. At which the little fairy jumped 
up and ran away. 

“ Suppose,” said Sara timidly to the queen, 
44 there was a little girl who had been idle all 
her life ; is there any help for her ? ” 

44 Why yes, if that person tries hard to over- 
come it. But you had better go home now, or 
your mother will miss you. Here, take these 
violets, and every time you look at them, they 
will remind you of the lesson of the Magic 
Rivers.” 

When Jocelyn had finished reading this art- 
less little tale, she too, got up from her rather 
uncomfortable position upon the floor, and 
walked quickly (a little smile, half amusement, 
half pleasure on her face), over to the window 
where Janet stood awaiting her in embarrassed 
silence. The child did not move as her sister 
approached, but Jocelyn threw her arm around 
her and gave her a good comforting squeeze. 

44 Why you dear little thing, you ! ” she ex- 
claimed. 44 1 hadn’t the least idea you could 
do anything half so good. Why, it is just as I 
told you, I am as pleased and proud as I can 
be!” 


138 


IN MOTHER’S PLACE. 


Janet gave 4 a little gasp, and flashed a quick 
entreating glance from her big gray eyes. 

“ Yes, I do truly mean what I say. I think 
your little story is just as cute, as you children 
say, as can be. I don’t mean to flatter you at 
all, and of course, it is a little queer and abrupt 
in form, but that don’t matter ; the art of com- 
position will come by practice, and by observa- 
tion, as you get older. But it shows that you 
have ideas, very bright little ideas of your own, 
and a pretty fanciful way of expressing them. 
I am really surprised at the ease and vividness 
with which you express yourself, you child, 
you ! You really make us see everything that 
Sara saw. But what I like best of all is the 
inner side of your little fairy story, dear. It 
shows that our Janet has been thinking about 
herself, about her own besetting fault.” 

“ Yes, and that’s one reason why I didn’t 
want them all to read it. I know how lazy I 
am about getting up mornings, and how I hate 
to move, to do anything for anybody, when I 
get settled down with a book. I know it is 
selfish, and I wanted to try — but can’t try half 
so well when I know people are watching to see 
whether I fail or not ” 

“Ah, but that is just another of your tempt- 
ations you must struggle against, Janet, dear. 
You are apt to think too much about yourself 


THE MYSTERY UNRAVELLED. 


139 


and your own feelings, to brood over things, 
and imagine other people are thinking this and 
that about you. It makes you suspicious and 
over-sensitive ; people in a family ought to be 
free and open with each other, and give and 
take in a good-natured way, not bearing a bit 
of malice. We all love each other, I am sure, 
and we all have plenty of faults of our own, so 
we can’t afford to be over-critical. And I think 
you would be happier, dear, if you were less 
sensitive, and less secretive. You see you were 
very anxious to guard against - any chance of 
your own feelings being hurt by teasing or 
joking, but you forgot to think how hard it 
would be for Jem with her big bump of curi- 
osity, to find her own door locked against 
her ” 

“ I always opened it when she came — I told 
you that before, Jocelyn ! — and besides, mother 
always said Jem’s curiosity must be checked.” 

“ Yes, but having mysteries and secrets like 
that is the way to stimulate, not to check it, 
don’t you think? And besides, Janet, put 
yourself in her place now ; how would you like 
it, if she were the first one to break away, when 
you have always done everything together so, 
and have a separate interest, all to herself and 
that kept so secret ” 

“Oh well, Jocelyn, Jem is such a rattle-pate ; 


140 


IN mothek’s place. 


she and Joe are better company for each other 
after all. I can’t help feeling a difference as I 
get older ; and besides, all those things come into 
my head of my own accord, and I can’t help 
liking to put them down — and she wouldn’t 
understand — ” 

“ Ah, but there you don’t do her justice, my 
dear. She does understand — she appreciated 
your little story to the full, and was generously 
glad you could do what seemed to her such a 
wonderful thing, something she is quite sure 
she could never do herself. So now, in consid- 
eration of that, I want you to forgive her for 
doing what, of course, she had no right to do ; 
and to help her by not making a secret of it 
any more. I understand just how such a thing 
must always be more or less sacred to one's 
own self; but I am pretty sure if you didn’t 
shut yourself up and seem so determined to 
keep apart, Jem is too good-hearted to intrude; 
there would be nothing to pique her curiosity, 
and there would be no more trouble. And 
when you can bring yourself to be quite open 
with us all about it, and give us the pleasure 
of sharing your pretty little fancies, why, I 
know we shall all be very glad, and think a 
great deal more of enjoying them, than of teas- 
ing or criticising. If you would only let father 
see this, now ” 


THE MYSTERY UNRAVELLED. 


141 


But Janet gave a little shrinking start. 

“ Oh no, not yet, Jocelyn, please ! Not till I 
have done something better worth showing — 
something — ” 

“ Very well, dear. I understand, and it shall 
be just as you feel about it. I am only glad 
that such a sweet and pure interest has come to 
you. I hope it may grow into something that 
will be a power for good in your own life, and 
in others’ ; and I shall trust you not to let it 
bring pain even into naughty little Jem’s. 
Come on now, dear, and let us go down ; it is 
Saturday afternoon, and there are a dozen 
things waiting for me to do. Give me a kiss, 
and then find Jem, and give her one too ! ” 

But Janet was not quite equal to that. The 
child was by nature almost morbidly sensitive 
and reticent ; it was always a positive pain to 
her to talk over herself, or be talked over : 
there had been quite as much of it already as 
she felt able to stand, and moreover, her resent- 
ment against the profane hands that had dar- 
ingly rent away the veil from her precious 
secret, was not yet quite abated. 

“ It will be a good lesson for her if she does 
think I’m real mad with her,” she thought, 
with the severity of the young ; and so, instead 
of going in search of the culprit, she made her 
escape to her own room, and threw herself 


142 


in mother’s place. 


down on the bed to think it all over, and to 
rest her head which really ached with all the 
excitement. 

Jem sent two or three wistful looks in her 
direction at dinner, but it was not till they 
were tucked together in bed at night that she 
herself found courage to speak. Her loving 
little heart could not stand it then to have her 
sister lie straight and stiff on the edge of the 
bed, her face turned away from her. Cuddling 
close up to her, she stole a little plump arm 
around her and whispered, half sobbing, into 
the back of her neck, “ I’m awful sorry, Janet. 
Don’t be angry with me any longer. ’Member, 
we’ve both said our prayers.” Janet turned 
over and put her arm round Jem also. 

“ I know it, and I do forgive you,” she said. 
“ But, Jem, you don’t know how hard it was, 
and you must never bring any of — of those 
things— down-stairs any more, nor talk about 
them to the others. And if you won’t, I’ll let 
you go and read them when you want to— only 
not when I am in the room ! ” 

“Well!” exclaimed Jem, drawing a deep 
breath of surprise and pleasure at this unex- 
pected concession ; “ If you ain’t just a dear, 

then I don’t know ! ” 


CHAPTER VII. 


JOCELYN HAS HER SAY. 

^TVTHERE is Joe this evening ? ” asked Mr. 

Jerome one night coming out of his 
study into the sitting-room where the girls 
were gathered about the evening lamp. 

“Out round somewhere; some boys came 
for him, 5 -’ responded Jem. 

“ But I don’t wish him to be 1 out round 
somewhere,’ wherever that may be, little girl. 
I want him in the house of an evening. I 
thought he usually sat here with you all, and 
studied his lessons. ,, 

“ It is Friday, yoii know, papa,” remarked 
Juliet, looking up from her embroidery. 

“ Ah, so it is,” said her father, as if recollect- 
ing; “well, I suppose that means there is no 
studying this evening, but all the same, I want 
him in the house by this time. I think he 
must have gone into the town ; I have just 
come in from a stroll about the place myself ; 
I didn’t see anything of him. I don’t want 
him in the streets at this hour ; a boy learns no 
good there.” 


( 143 ) 


144 


IN mother’s place. 


“ It is light so late now, father,” said Jem. 
“ Just think — it is April ! Before we know it, 
summer will be here, and vacation ; and oh, 
won’t I be glad ! ” 

“ It doesn’t matter if it is light,” her father 
persisted. “ It is nearly nine o’clock, and I 
won’t have my boy away from home at that 
hour. I wonder he ventures to stay out so late 
without leave! Or, did Jocelyn, perhaps, send 
him somewhere ? Where is Jocelyn, by the 
way ? ” 

“Putting Jessie to sleep,” answered speaker 
Jem. “Nonsense,” coldly observed Juliet. 
“ Jessie’s asleep long ago. She plays so hard 
all day she’s off the minute her head touches 
the pillow. Jocelyn is sitting up at the win- 
dow star-gazing, I don’t doubt: anyone might 
suppose she had taken a sudden new interest 
in astronomy, she studies the moon and stars 
so much.” 

Mr. Jerome looked at his daughter with a 
puzzled expression, as if a little perplexed at 
both words and tone, but he made no comment. 
He only said with a little anxious sigh, 

“ Well, I wish it could be so that you would 
all sit here together in the evening as you used 
to. I like to think of things going on the 
same, as ” 

“Well, father,” broke in Jem, as he paused, 


JOCELYN HAS HES SAY. 


145 


“ if you would only come and sit with us too 
sometimes ! Don’t you remember what nice 
times we used to have playing games ? Let’s 
have a game of Authors to-night, won’t you, 
and you play with us?” 

“ Yes,” said Janet, looking up from her book ; 
“I like to play Authors : that’s the nicest of 
them all. Will you, father ? ” 

But Mr. Jerome visibly shrank from the 
proposal. He desired to know that the family 
life was going on safely and happily in the old 
peaceful way; but the wound in his heart was 
still too sore for him to forget it for a moment. 
It would cost more of an effort than he yet 
felt able or willing to make, to sit down fa- 
miliarly as of old in the room which her 
presence had made home ; to see her chair 
empty, or filled by another ; to take part, with- 
out her, in any of the old simple amusements 
of which she had been the life and soul. 

“No, not to-night, I think,” he excused 
himself hastily; “I have something to do — I 
am busy. But — a — just tell Joe when he comes 
in I want to speak to him, will you, and I’ve no 
doubt Jocelyn will come down if you ask her, 
my dears. I have something I wish to attend 
to to-night,” and he withdrew hurriedly into 
his own sanctum. 

“Poor Jocelyn! Everything’s got to de- 
10 


146 


Itf mothek’s place. 


pend upon her ! ” said Jem with a comical little 
sigh. “But I reckon I’d better tell her, he 
likes her to be down here.” 

She got up, stretched her arms over her head, 
and prepared to go to call her sister, but Juliet 
interposed in her usual neutral tone : 

“ I don’t quite see that Jocelyn has any 
more to do than the rest of us. We have to 
be in school most of the day, and have our 
practicing and our lessons afterward, aud any- 
how, you mustn't disturb her if you feel she is 
so overtasked. Three of us are enough to play 
if you want a game.” 

“Oh, well,” said Jem; “father seems to want 
us all to be together ; and I like to have some- 
body round that, that seems to be the real 
head, you know, no offence to you, Jule! ” and 
away she went to look for the one who had 
undertaken to fill the mother’s place. 

She found her sitting, as Juliet had suggested, 
at her window, dimly outlined in the dusk, and 
gazing upward toward the sky, where the silver 
crescent of the moon was gliding swiftly in and 
out, in and out, among the pearly cloud-islets 
that flecked the dark blue upper ocean of the 
heavens. 

“Oh, isn’t it pretty!” cried the little girl, 
stopping beside her sister and following her up- 
ward glance. “It’s just as if she was playing 


JOCELYN HAS HER SAY. 


147 


bo-peep! with the clouds, isn’t it? But Joce- 
lyn, what makes you want to sit staring at it 
so long ? J ule says you’re studying astronomy. 
Come on, won’t you, down-stairs, and let’s play 
games, or have some music, or something. 
Joe’s out, and father’s been in. He don’t like 
it, and he wants us all to be together.” 

Jocelyn had given a little start and a sudden 
flush had come into her cheek as Jem was 
speaking; now she turned and looked at her 
with some anxiety. 

“Joe out again so late?” she exclaimed. 
“ Why he promised me only last night ” 

“ Yes, we didn’t tell father he had been 
out ever so many evenings before ; but you 
know, he oughtn’t, Jocelyn,” supplemented 
Jem, sagely. 

“ Why of course he ought not ! And he 
promised me if I wouldn’t speak to father 
about it, that last night should be the end of 
it.” I trusted his word, and I felt a little tired 
this evening and it was so lovely here at the win- 
dow, I thought I might just sit here and be quiet 
awhile.” Poor Jocelyn’s voice had a touch of 
unwonted impatience in it. “ But I suppose 
the time has gone by forever when I can feel 
free to take a few minutes to myself. Well, 
all right, Jem. Go on down, I’ll come in a 


148 


IN mother’s place. 


moment; shut the door softly so as not to 
wake Jessie. She was restless this evening.” 

But the little girl did not move at once ; 
she stood with her hand upon her sister’s shoul- 
der, looking down into the flushed and dis- 
turbed face, usually so sweet and kindly. 
Why should any one, she was pondering in her 
small mind, prefer to sit off all alone, gazing 
at the moon, even suppose it was brighter and 
prettier than usual, rather than be down-stairs 
where there were light and people and some- 
thing going on? It was more than Jem could 
divine ; she had not reached the age when she 
could feel the glamour of the 

“silver lights and darks,” 

or find the pleasantest company in one’s own 
dreamy thoughts. 

“ Poor J. J.,” she said in her quaint little 
wise way : “ it’s pretty hard for you to have to 
be the mother, isn’t it, before you’re any more 
than, just grown-up yourself! Never mind; 
you needn’t come down if you don’t want to; 
we girls are big enough to take care of our- 
selves, and as for Mr. Joe, father’s going to give 
him a talking-to himself.” 

“ Oh, I didn’t want it to come to that ! ” said 
Jocelyn, distressed that her father should be 
annoyed, and anxious lest he should perhaps 


JOCELYN HAS HER SAY. 


149 


think her remiss. “ I thought I could influence 
Joe myself; I didn’t want to lay any positive 
orders upon him, — boys resent that so; and the 
other boys are out, and he don’t see why he 
can’t be too, now that it isn’t dark till late. 
But I talked to him over and over again, and 
told him I should have to speak to father — and 
now he has broken his word ! — Well; I want to 
be down-stairs when he comes in — I shall be 
down immediately, Jem.” 

She turned to draw down the shade a little 
lest some stray moonbeam should steal in and 
lay a tricksy finger upon the little sleeper’s 
eyes, breaking their sweet spell of slumber; 
and as she did so she lifted one last glance to 
the silver-flooded sky. 

44 It seems to bridge the distance between us,” 
she said, to herself wistfully, 44 when I think 
the same beautiful moon, the same shining stars, 
are looking down upon us both. But, oh, 
Dick, it’s a long distance, for all that, and I do 
miss you so ! ” 

“Come on, Jocelyn,” called Jem from the 
landing, and she turned hastily and went down- 
stairs with her little sister. The others were 
waiting with the Author-cards scattered over the 
table. “What a time you have been!” said 
Juliet. “It’s hardly worth while to begin 
now.” 


150 


in mother’s place. 


But Jem said, “Oh yes ! ” and Jocelyn began 
to distribute them at once with hands that were 
not quite so steady as usual, and the game they 
were all wont to enjoy was started without 
more delay. But for some reason or other, it 
did not proceed with the usual animation : 
Juliet was chill and silent, and Jocetyn seemed 
to be listening and watching for something. 
When, at nearly ten o’clock, there was the 
cautious sound of the colonnade-door being 
stealthily opened, she was the first of the 
players to hear it, and started involuntarily 
from her seat. But as she opened the sitting- 
room door, she saw her father coming out 
of the study into the hall. His face looked 
grave and stern, and he motioned her back: 

“I will see the young man myself,” he said, 
and the next moment, the truant, slipping noise- 
lessly along the passage toward the stairs, found 
himself confronted by his father’s tall figure 
standing at the foot, and received the un- 
welcome invitation, 

“ Come into my study, please, for a moment. 
I want to talk with you a little.” 

Jocelyn stepped back hastily into the sitting- 
room, and took up her cnrds with a nervous 
little laugh. “ Let’s see, where were we?” she 
said, “Dickens, Doddridge, Defoe, — oh, T want 
to tell you all such a pretty little story I came 


JOCELYN HAS HER SAY. 


151 


across to-day about Dickens — ’* and so she 
went on hurriedly, making talk while she dis- 
tributed the cards, and trying to prevent the 
sound of voices in the next room from being 
heard. 

They were heard, nevertheless ; the father's 
low, but stern and decided, the boy’s sullen 
and resentful. Presently Jem could contain 
herself no longer. 

“My!” she said in an awed undertone, 
“isn’t father talking as if he meant it, though! 
I wonder Joe dare keep on answering him that 
way.” 

“ Mean it ? Of course he means it,” said 
Juliet. “The idea of a youngster like Joe 
thinking he can go off like this of an evening, 
and stay out all hours with a lot of boys who 
are not taken any better care of themselves! 
If I had any thing to say about it ” 

“Well, please don’t say anything about it, 
Juliet,” hastily interposed her older sister. 
“To Joe I mean; he is peculiar, you know — he 
has to be managed — ” 

“Oh, don’t be afraid,” was Juliet’s chill re- 
joinder. “I haven’t the slightest intention of 
interfering with any of your prerogatives.” 

“ Oh, you know I didn’t mean that, Juliet! ” 
expostulated Jocelyn, and Jem whistled softly. 

“Whew!” she said, “can't Jule right natur- 


152 


in mother’s place. 


ally curl when she’s a mind to! Why, Janet, 
for all you’re an authoress, — oh dear, I didn’t 
mean to say that ! I only meant to say I didn’t 
believe even you could get off such a high-sound- 
ing sentence as that ! ” 

Her consternation at having touched upon 
the forbidden topic was so comical that they all 
broke into an involuntary laugh, and Jocelyn 
promptly made use of the diversion to say, 
“Come, that will do for you now, Jem. It is 
high time you were going to bed ; and you, too 
Janet, my dear. There won’t be any getting 
either of you up in the morning. Are }^ou com- 
ing, too, Juliet? Shall I put the light out, or 
will you?” 

“ Oh, I’m coming,” said Juliet, and Jocelyn 
was glad, for now Joe would be able to get up to 
his own room without having to encounter 
any curious or disapproving glances on the 
way ; and knowing his temper, she thought this 
was best. She went into his room however, and 
left upon the table where he would see it a 
book which he had asked her to get from the 
library for him that day. 

“ He’s wanted that 4 Stanley ’ for so long, and 
it was always out,” she said to herself. “ Maybe 
it will keep him from going to sleep feeling 
sulky, naughty fellow ! I shall have some- 
thing to say to him on my own account as soon 


JOCELYN HAS HER SAY. 


153 


as I get a good chance !” And then she slipped 
back into her own room as she heard him come 
stamping heavily, and she feared sullenly, i.p 
the stair. 

Her father stopped at her door a few minutes 
later. 

“ Have you gone to bed yet, Jocelyn ? ” he 
asked. “ No ? then I would like to speak with 
you a few minutes,” and he came in and closed 
the door behind him. “ It is about that boy of 
ours, Joe,” he said, and she saw that his look 
and tone were anxious. “ I’m afraid he is falling 
into bad ways. South worth, the principal of 
the academy, stopped me as I was coming home 
this afternoon, and walked up street with me 
talking about him. He tells me he was absent 
from school yesterday and brought no excuse 
to-day. And when I asked him how this was, 
Joe, I mean, he owned that he had deliberately 
played truant — strayed away, he called it — be- 
cause he wanted to go fishing with Bill Toliver 
and the Dix boys down the river.” 

“And did he really go?” asked Jocelyn, 
amazed. 

“ So he tells me. And when I demanded to 
know how he could justify such high-handed 
conduct, he informed me that he ‘s’posedit was 
the spring fever in his blood ; he was just pos- 
sessed to get on the water, and he hadn’t any 


154 


in mother’s place. 


other chance. He’d rather the boys had waited 
till Saturday, but they wouldn’t, and so he just 
went along.’ ” 

Some subtle change in her father’s tone made 
Jocelyn look up at him, and she caught a 
twinkle of amusement in his eye. She put her 
hand up on his shoulder and said half coax- 
ingly, half mischievously, “ Well, and didn’t 
you like to go fishing when you were a boy, 
papa ? ” 

Mr. Jerome’s^ grave face relaxed still more. 
“ Why yes, I did certainly,” he said, “ but I 
never played 4 hookey ’ from school to do it, Miss ! 
Your grandfather had a plantation, you know, 
a big farm down on the bay-shore, and half our 
living came out of the water, fish and oysters 
and crabs and clams. Many’s the mess of 
spots I’ve caught before breakfast, and helped 
to eat ’em an hour after ; yes and many the 
the great sheep’shead and porgy I’ve helped to 
haul in when it seemed an even chance if they 
wouldn’t haul me in first ! But then, those were 
the old times ; there were always plenty of old 
experienced darky fishermen to go along and 
look after us ; and we learned to handle a boat 
ourselves. But Joe — he knows nothing about 
a boat, and I doubt if those other boys know 
much more. It makes me fairly wince now when 
I think he was out on the river with them all day, 


JOCELYN HAS HER SAY. 


155 


and might as easily have gone to the bottom 
as not. And then the audacity of the thing — 
that little chap daring to take matters in his 
own hands that way ! Why, if he does these 
things in the green tree, how will it be in the 
dry ?” 

“ Joe is small for his age,” remarked Jocelyn. 
“ You know he is nearly fourteen, father.” 

“ Well, what of that ? ” said her father with 
some impatience. “ All the worse ; he’ll be feel- 
ing independent all the sooner. And I can’t 
have it, Jocelyn ; I can’t have him going off at 
his own will and pleasure, and staying out 
nights, and running with that wild, lawless set of 
fellows. They are older than he is, and allowed 
to do pretty much as they like ; and the first 
thing we know, we shall have Joe learning to 
use bad language, and to smoke cigarettes — ” 
her father did not notice the sudden start Joce- 
lyn gave — it might have been only the moon- 
light that still flashed and faded, hurrying to 
and fro, in and out of the silvery clouds — ” 
and I do wish, Jocelyn, child, you would try to 
devise some means of keeping him interested at 
home after school hours. I know you have a 
great deal devolving on you already, my dear, 
too much for your youth and inexperience 
— but if you could try, it is a matter of such 
importance, just at this critical period in a boy’s 


156 


IN mother’s place. 


life. I don’t want to be harsh and stern with 
him ; I should only lose his confidence ; and I 
want him — I want you all — to love me and to 
feel I am your friend ; you have no other now, 
poor things ! ” 

His voice broke, and Jocelyn laid her cheek 
upon the arm that still rested on his shoulder, 
with a caressing gesture. 

44 But Joe must he taken more firmly in hand, 
and if you could help me, my dear ; if it could 
be made pleasant and interesting for him in the 
house ” 

44 I do try, father,” said Jocelyn, 44 I will try 
more. But father — ” she hesitated a moment, 
and then went bravely on ; 44 don’t you think 
it would he more likely to help if } r ou would — 
don’t think I am presuming, father — if you 
could just bring yourself to show a little more 
interest, to join in things the way you used 
to; a hoy gets so tired of being always just 
with a parcel of girls, his own sisters, too ; and 
staying in the house makes such a Miss Molly 
of him ! Only Joe never could he a Miss Molly, 
and so there would just be more and more 
trouble as he gets older. But if you — ” she 
plunged on eagerly as she saw her father’s dis- 
turbed and reluctant look, 44 in this very matter 
of going on the water, father. Joe has got his 
love for it straight from you, it seems ; and if 


JOCELYN HAS HER SAY. 


157 


you could only plan to get him a boat of his 
own, and go with him to teach him how to use 
it, I think it would be so perfectly delightful 
for us all, now that the summer is coming on, 
and the evenings will be so long and mild. Oh, 
I think it would be just charming — to have 
that to look forward to all through the long hot 
days, and to have you with us again, and to 
know that the boy is happy and safe, don’t 
you think so, father ? Oh, I’m just sure you 
would enjoy it, and that it would be the very 
nicest thing in the world for all of us ! ” 

Mr. Jerome looked at his daughter in sur- 
prise, and some amusement. He had never 
heard his big, grown-up girl beg for anything in 
that fashion, before : it touched him in a tender 
way too, for he understood readily enough, that 
while she was speaking one word for herself, it 
was two for Joe, and perhaps three for her sad- 
hearted father, whom she would fain rouse from 
the torpor of solitary grief. He had put aside 
the prompting of his own conscience suggesting 
from time to time a hint of possible self indul- 
gence, in keeping himself so aloof from his 
children in their common sorrow; but it had 
come to him now in a way which he could not ig- 
nore. He stood silen t a moment, casting a troub- 
led glance about the room which had once been 
his own and his wife’s ; in every corner of which 


158 


in mother’s place. 


memories were grouped, every object in which 
had some tender association. He was thinking 
perhaps, “ Yes, youth is elastic ; can spring up 
again, alive and bright, no matter how crushing 
the blow; but I — can I ever enjoy anything 
again ? ” 

But he said nothing of this: presently he put 
aside his own feeling with a brief stifled sigh, and 
went back to the idea Jocelyn had suggested. 

“ It is a good notion,” he said ; “ I don’t think 
I have forgotten my old skill in water-craft, and 
I should certainly be very glad to provide you 
all with such a pleasure. But, my dear, have 
you any idea of the cost of a boat large enough 
to carry such a crew ? ” 

Jocelyn looked a little disconcerted. “ No, I 
haven’t, not the slightest,” she admitted ; but 
then, her look brightening, “ but father, we 
would all help toward paying for it. We would 
save part of it out of the housekeeping ! I’m 
sure we wouldn’t any of us mind doing without 
desserts for awhile, and having less cake and 
sweet meats, and that sort of thing, for such a 
pleasant purpose as that. And we girls could get 
on without many new dresses this summer. O, 
father, indeed we would all enjoy it so, the 
boating itself, and having you with us, I feel 
quite certain we would be willing to give up 
most anything.” 


JOCELYN HAS HER SAY. 


159 


Mr. Jerome’s countenance relaxed into some- 
thing like a smile. 

“ Oh, I don’t think I should find it necessary 
to starve my children, or even to ‘let the little 
colts go bare’,” he said. “I dare say I could 
manage the cost of the boat without much 
effort ; but there is another point, the most im- 
portant one perhaps, which we have not touched 
upon at all. Does even an indulgent sister like 
yourself think Joe should be rewarded — by such 
a gift — when it is punishment he most certainly 
deserves ? ” 

But Jocelyn met him there. “ Yes, father,” 
she said earnestly, “I have thought of that, 
and I’ll tell you what I think. You are not 
Joe’s school-master; you are not exactly the 
law in this instance. His offence was first 
against Mr. South worth ; let him settle it with 
the young man according to the rules of the 
school, and you let Joe know that you quite 
endorse whatever he does, and let it have what 
effect it will. And then, you be the kind father, 
and let him see that you do care about his 
wishes and his pleasures, and that you want to 
help him not to be naughty just as much or 
more, as to have him suffer after he has been 
naughty. See, father ! ” 

Mr. Jerome met her coaxing look with a 
touched and softened glance. 


160 


in mother’s place. 


“ Oh yes, I see you are your mother’s own 
daughter ! ” he said hastily in a deeply moved 
tone, and stooping to put his lips to her cheek. 
“Well — I’ll think it over; I’ll please you if I 
can — ” and with this, he was gone, but he left 
his daughter fairly glowing in the moonlight 
with sweet surprise and pleasure. A kiss from 
her father — it meant so much; and his pre- 
cious words ! how happy they made her, for she 
knew he could have found no higher praise for 
her. 

“ Oh, how glad I am he feels that way about 
me ! ” she said over and over to herself, as she 
moved softly about the room preparing for bed. 
“ Of course I know I don’t deserve it ; and yet, 
I do try, and by God's help, I shall try more 
and more, to fill her dear place. And it is a 
help to know that what you do is appreciated, 
and especially by the one you. care most to 
please. Dear father — if I can only see him 
happy, or at least not so unhappy — once more! 
And I’m sure this plan of the boat will help 
to bring us all more together as in the old 
times ; only, Master Joe, you are going to be 
made to understand that it is by grace' and 
not by desert you get it ! ” 

She did not appear to take any more notice 
of the young man than usual next morning, 
and the others, busy in their own preparations 


JOCELYN HAS HER SAY. 


161 


for school seemed not to recollect that any- 
thing unusual had happened. But Jocelyn 
saw her father hand him a note, at which Joe 
made rather a wry face, and conjectured that 
he was leaving the affair of “ playing hookey ?J 
in the school-master’s hands. 

“ Poor little chap ! I wonder what he will do 
to him ? ” Jocelyn said to herself more than 
once that day ; and she purposely arranged her 
household affairs, so as to be walking slowly 
down the other side of the way along the street 
on which the academy stood just at the hour 
when the boys came rushing pell-mell down 
the steps, and scattering hither and thither in 
the direction of their various homes. She dis- 
covered Joe readily enough, for the school was 
not large ; nothing was large in Oakleigh ex- 
cept the great wide-spreading trees from which 
it took its name, and the big, old-fashioned 
flower-gardens attached to almost all of the low- 
pitched, rambling old uses, and which scented 
the April air now with the perfume of myriads 
of early violets, jonquils, and hyacinths. 

Joe saw his sister too, and would have pre- 
ferred to walk off in another direction ; but he 
did not quite like to disregard her beckoning 
finger, and came across the street, looking sulky 
and reluctant enough. 

“ What is it ? What do you want with me, 
n 


162 IN mother’s place. 

Jocelyn,” he asked. “ I’m in a hurry ; I’ve got 
lots to do.” 

“ Oh, have you,” said his sister, with a little 
note of disappointment in her voice. “ Couldn’t 
it wait awhile? I wanted so much to get some 
fresh water-lily pods for the pond in the garden ; 
the old ones seem to be all dying out, and you 
know we don’t want to give up our water-lily 
pond, Joe.” 

“ Yes,” Joe knew, and he knew the reason 
why ; because it was the mother’s special pride 
in all her gardening, and the pond-lily perhaps 
the best beloved of all the flowers she loved so 
well. The boy could remember how she used 
almost always to wear one in her bosom of an 
evening in their blooming-time ; he could see it 
now, the soft creamy-white leaves with the 
golden centre ; and suddenly a breath of the 
faint sweet odor seemed to be floating toward 
him on the delicate April air. 

“It is the time to set them out now,” Jocelyn 
went on ; “ but I don’t like to go down to the 
river-side alone, or w r ith just the girls. There 
are apt to be men and boys roaming round, and 
I thought I could count on you as an escort.” 

Joe’s gruff look softened a little ; his remem- 
brance of his mother was deeper and tenderer 
than he believed they knew, which was one 
reason of his gruffness nowadays ; and then it 


JOCELYN HAS HER SAY. 


163 


tickled his boyish vanity to think that his big 
grown-up sister, such a tall, stately-looking girl 
as Jocelyn was, could feel any sense of protec- 
tion in his company ! There was some suspi- 
cion however in the glance which he cast fur- 
tively toward her pleasant face : 

“She looks as if she didn’t know, but I’ll 
bet she does. Anyhow I’m not going to play 
sneak about it.” 

So he blurted out, “ All right ; I’ll go with 
you if you want me. The dominie has given 
me two hundred lines extra of Virgil to pay for 
my frolic the other day ” 

Jocelyn drew a little breath of relief. She 
had been mortally afraid of a flogging, and she 
had an intuitive conviction that however well 
that might serve the purpose with some boys, it 
would be a mistake with a lad of Joe’s sensitive 
high-strung temperament. 

“ But I can get up earlier in the morning and 
peg away at that,” he went on; “the fun was 
worth it. So come ahead if you want to. I’ll 
try to keep the bears and wild cats off o’ 
you.” 

Jocelyn laughed with a little secret sense of 
triumph, and said “that’s a good fellow ; ” and 
they went on together, down the rough, steep 
street that led to the river side, and along its 
banks by a little beaten path made by the fish- 


164 


IN mother’s place. 


ermen and other water-side work people, until 
they had left the straggling town behind them, 
and entered a bit of woodland, made dim and 
shady by great old forest trees, and carpeted 
by smooth pine-shatters, or moss as soft and 
green as velvet. The river flowed on there 
softly and brightly through sunshine and shadow ; 
there was not even a strolling negro in sight ; 
and Jocelyn set to work, her mind at ease, to 
fill, with Joe’s help, the basket she had brought 
for her lily-pods. They were alreadj^ out in 
their new leaves of tender green, floating like 
fairy boats upon the quiet water, and in such 
quantities that Joe, paddling himself out to 
their beds on a bit of board with a pine sapling, 
soon had pulled up more than the basket would 
contain ; and poling himself back to the shore, 
sat down on a heap of shatters, and proceeded 
leisurely to put on again the shoes and stock- 
ings which he pulled off, for fear of a sudden 
tip-over on his improvised raft. 

“Oh they are lovely, just so, without any 
flowers,” exclaimed his sister, laying the glossy 
dripping leaves in the basket with loving 
hands : “ but how glad I shall be to see them 
opening out their great blossoms in mother’s 
pond ! I believe I like wild woodsy things 
even better than the garden fine-ladies after 
all ! ” 


JOCELYN HAS HER SAY. 165 

Joe tied his last shoe string, and gave his foot 
a stamp. 

“Well,” he said, “there’s plenty of wild 
flowers, violets and bluets and such, farther 
along up stream ; come ahead, and I’ll get you 
as many as you like.” 

They strayed on a little further along the 
grassy bank, but Jocelyn presently checked 
her steps at sight of a tempting seat made by 
the gnarled roots of an old tree, whose wide- 
spreading branches reached out over the river, 
and took possession of the mossy cushion. 

“No, Joe, thank you; I don’t believe I’ll go 
wild flower gathering this afternoon ; the girls 
wouldn’t like it that I hadn’t brought them ; 
but the lilies, you know, only you could help 
me with. We can all come out together Satur- 
day afternoon and gather the dear little bluets, 
and the anemones ought to be out by that time, 
too. Just now, I believe I feel like resting,” 
and she leaned her back against the great tree- 
trunk, and looked out over the water where a 
bevy of birds were skimming along the glassy 
tide. 

“ What a lovely old river this of ours is just 
here, isn’t it, Joe,” she said. “ How clear and 
deep the water looks, and how swift the cur- 
rent is ! Wouldn’t it be fun, Joe, if we only 
had a boat, and could row up here, evenings, 


166 IN mother’s place. 

this summer and see the sunset and the moon- 
rise ? ” 

“ Humph ! ” said Joe, “ I’d a deal rather row 
down the other way toward the bay, mornings, 
and go a-fishing.” 

“ Oh, had you,” said Jocelyn, dryly. Joe 
looked up at her — he had thrown himself on 
the bank beside her — and met a close, meaning 
look, under which he began to redden and 
fidget in spite of himself. 

“Joe!” his sister suddenly exclaimed. 
“What is this? ’’and she held out to him a 
small white packet which she had been keeping 
in her hand. The boy took it with some sur- 
prise, and opened the little twist of paper. His 
look fell, and the color deepened in his face. 
But he put a bold face on it. 

“ A couple of cigarettes,” he said in a sulky 
tone. “ I reckon you knew without asking.” 

“Yes, I knew,” said Jocelyn gravely ; “I 
knew, of course, what they were when I found 
them on the bureau behind the glass in your 
room the other day when I was helping Mahaly 
put it in order. “And Joe, how do you sup- 
pose I felt when I saw them ? ” 

“ I don’t see anything to feel so dreadful bad 
about,” answered the boy, keeping his shame- 
dyed face averted. “All the other fellows do 
it as well as me.” 


JOCELYN HAS HER SAY. 


167 


“Not all, I trust,” rejoined his sister. Such 
mere boys as you ! Why, it is terrible, only to 
think of it! And those that do do it as you do, 
on the sly, Joe, secretly, knowing that their 
parents would disapprove of it, carrying about 
a constant deception with them. No — don’t 
answer me angrily, Joe. You know I am speak- 
ing truth; and O Joe, did I ever think you — 
whom we all believed to be manly and honest, 
no matter what your faults were, could get 
your own consent to do things on the sly — to 
live in a habit of deceit. Mother’s boy, Joe — 
her only boy ! ” 

Jocelyn’s eyes suddenly became full of tears, 
and her voice faltered, as it came over her how 
that dear heart would have suffered in the 
knowledge. Joe felt a twinge of shame and 
compunction, but he was not prepared to con- 
demn himself wholly. 

“ For pity’s sake, don’t get to crying,” he 
said, willing to turn the subject into another 
channel. “A fellow can stand anything bet- 
ter’n to see a girl cry. And I don’t know 
what you’re making such a fuss about. Of 
course I can’t smoke round the house; father 
would make such a row. But just because he 
don’t happen to care about smoking himself, he 
mustn’t forget, and you mustn’t either, that 
almost every other man does ! ” 


168 


IN mother’s place. 


“It would be a great deal better for them 
if they didn’t ! ” rejoined his sister with spirit. 
“ Only think of the quantities of money that 
are just thrown away, consumed in smoke, and 
horrid-smelling smoke, too, by men who couldn’t 
think they could afford to buy a new book or 
picture, or pretty bit of furnishing for their 
house, or give their family a treat to a concert, 
or a drive, or a little trip in the summer. I 
declare it seems to me actually wicked, a posi- 
tive sin, for a man who doesn’t even own the 
house he has brought his wife to, who knows 
that he has made no provision for her or his 
children, in case of his death, to go on, day 
after day, puffing away, burning up the very 
bank-bills that would help to buy a home for 
them and the means to keep it up. And it is 
that sort, just as well as those who really can 
afford to indulge themselves, who spend just as 
much on tobacco. It’s a man’s privilege, for- 
sooth, a man’s comfort ; it rests him after his 
day’s work, makes him sleep well ! But what 
rests a woman after her day’s work, which is 
often just as hard and trying as a man’s? I 
wonder if it wouldn’t soothe her, and help her 
to sleep peacefully, if she had a mind at rest 
about the future, if she knew her husband cared 
as much about her pleasure, as about his own 
selfish enjoyment?” 


JOCELYN HAS HER SAY. 


169 


Joe glanced up at his sister as she paused in 
her excited speech, with a furtive twinkle in his 
eye. He had never heard her “free her mind ” 
in this way before. 

“Now Jocelyn,” he said, half-teasingly, half- 
coaxingly, “ It isn’t like you to be so hard on a 
fellow. You know if you were to see father, 
or somebody else you like, sitting before the 
fire, or out on the porch of an evening, resting, 
and just longing for a pipe or a cigar to make 
him perfectly happy, you know you wouldn’t 
have the heart to refuse him, now would you? ” 

The young girl flushed up and gave a little 
reluctant laugh. 

“No, I suppose not,” she admitted. “I’m a 
woman, and I suppose I should do as the rest — 
let them be comfortable in their own beloved 
way. But I’m sure I should never think it a 
wise or sensible way, even for those who could 
perfectly well afford it, or a wholesome thing 
to keep one’s head in a bath of nicotine so 
much of the time. For the worst of it is men 
who smoke are like men who drink, very few 
of them, have any moderation. They begin 
when they are mere lads, just as you have done, 
you naughty fellow ! and the habit grows with 
their growth, and strengthens with their 
strength, until at length, it becomes their mas- 
ter, and they can’t get from under its power. 


170 


in mother’s place. 


Many a man who would be scornfully indignant 
if he was called a slave, is a slave, and tobacco 
is his master ! ” 

Joe gave a little low whistle under his breath, 
but Jocelyn turned upon him with emphasis. 

“No, you needn’t whistle, Joe,” she said. 
“ You know well that I am speaking the truth, 
or you will know it some day, if you keep on. 
But you know you are not to keep on, Joe — 
not at this age. If you choose to smoke when 
you are a man, why, I suppose your women- 
kind will have to submit to it as amiably as 
they may. Only I hope you’ll be man enough 
not to indulge yourself at the sacrifice of what 
you owe to them ; 4 drink fair,’ as Betsey Prig 
said. But just now, master Joe, while you are 
a mere boy at school, this sort of thing had 
better stop before it is fairly begun — don’t you 
think so ? Come now, look at it for yourself : 
do you admire the appearance of those youths 
that stand round the street-corners with the 
everlasting cigarette in their mouths, looking so 
pale and flabby and insignificant, their eyes 
dull, their hands shaky, their whole atmosphere 
made disgusting by the sickly, unclean smell ? ” 

“ Oh come now ! ” interrupted the boy, red- 
denning. “What’s the use o’ putting it so 
strong ? ” 

“ Because it is strong itself — bah ! ” said his 


JOCELYN HAS HER SAY. 


171 


sister, with a look of disgust. “ Why Joe, don’t 
you know what those cheap things you and boys 
like you, can afford to buy, are made of? The 
sweepings of tobacco-warehouse floors, the 
stumps of old cigars — tossed into the streets, 
the scraps and shreds gathered up amid the 
dust and dirt of the close, filthy dens where the 
cigarmakers herd together in poor streets and 
alleys — and you boys put them in your fresh 
young mouths — oh, the very idea is nauseous ! 
And it doesn’t only make your bodies unclean, 
Joe ; it soils your minds, it poisons your souls, 
it hardens your hearts. Don't, please, think I 
am exaggerating, Joe. Just think a minute 
what it has made you do ; we always found you 
open and honest about everything before ; could 
trust your word, and rely upon you not to con- 
ceal things. But now see ; it has made you 
break your promise to me about coming home, 
because you wanted to be off with the boys who 
have put you up to this miserable thing; you 
played truant from school — yes, father told me, 
poor father, because he was so distressed about 
it; — you keep away from home, you avoid being 
with the rest of us — O Joe, what would mother 
say ? ” 

“’Twouldn’t ever have been so if she was 
here,” said Joe sullenly. “ But everything is 
different now ; a fellow don’t want to be all the 


172 


IN mother’s place. 


time just with a lot of girls. She used to make 
things jolly, and father too. And now he don’t 
care, only to find fault if a fellow breaks loose 
once in awhile. He keeps to himself, and never 
thinks — ” 

“ Joe ! ” interrupted his sister. She had to 
swallow a pang of mortification to think how 
little her own efforts seemed to count for thus 
far ; but she got over that in a minute ; had she 
herself ceased to miss the dear mother ? “ Joe,” 

she ’said with decision, yet in a voice which 
showed she understood and sympathized ; 
“ You must remember that it isn’t only you who 
feel the difference ; but what if we all took it 
into our heads to ‘break loose,’ as you call it? 
‘ A fellow ’ can do his duty whether things are 
jolly or not ; and if not in his own strength, 
then, when he has been brought up as you have 
been, Joe, he knows where to seek help. And 
Joe, you are mistaken about father; he does 
care very much about everything that concerns 
us all. What do you suppose he is planning 
for now ? ” 

“ Dunno,” said Joe, still sulkily ; “and if I’d 
a -thought you were bringing me here only to 
preach to me — ” 

But Jocelyn would not take any notice of 
this. “ Suppose,” she went on, “ I were to tell 
you that he was thinking of buying a boat for 


JOCELYN HAS HER SAY. 


173 


us all, but for you, specially ; that he was go- 
ing to teach you how to manage it, and come 
out on the river with us himself in it ? ” 

This was too much for Joe’s assumed indiffer- 
ence. He looked up with his dark eyes spark- 
ling in spite of himself. “ Do you mean it ? ” 
he said. “You are not one of the chaffing 
ones, Jocelyn J ” 

“ I do mean it truly, Joe. Father and I talked 
about it last night, and I knew you’d be glad. 
But we are to help pay for it ourselves, you 
know ; a nice big boat costs a good deal of 
money. I promised for us all that we would 
give up something ; you know what it is v you 
are to give up, Joe ! ” 

The boy reddened and looked vexed for a 
moment, then his face cleared, and he broke 
out, “All right; I’m agreed; I’ll put in that 
part of my allowance. And as long as you feel 
so bad about it, J. J., I’ll own up to you. I 
don’t really care for the nasty things at all, 
myself. They made me awfully sick ever so 
many times at first, and I haven’t learned to 
really like ’em yet. It was only the boys guy- 
ing me for being a Miss Nancy ; but I guess 
they won’t Miss Nancy much when they see me 
handling a boat of my own ! Why Jocelyn ! ” 
and he got close up to her in his eagerness, and 
stretched out his arm down stream in the direc- 


174 


IN mother’s place. 


tion of the bay. “ Why, do you know, the 
river’s just chock -full of fish nowadays! Why 
I caught a dozen flounders and conjers myself 
the other day ! Talk about your sunsets and 
your moonrises ; if you want to see something 
pretty, just get a sight of a great porgy ieaping 
up out of the water in the early morning, and 
catching the sunrise on his scales, all shining 
just like silver ! And then see him fight for all 
he’s worth, and then hauled in — whew ! You 
needn’t make a face ; you like him when he’s 
stuffed and baked for dinner as well as the next 
one. But J. J., I say! do you truly mean it? 
Is father really going to do it, and when?” 

“ I don’t know exactly when,” answered 
Jocelyn. “Soon enough, I think; and I should 
not wonder,” smiling meaningly down into the 
boy’s eager, upturned face ; “ if it might ex- 
pedite matters if a certain young scapegrace I 
know were to go to his father, and say some- 
thing different from what he probably did last 
night! O Joe ! ” and the young girl threw 
her arms imploringly about her brother’s 
shoulders ; “ I’m so glad you don’t care about 
those horrid things ! So thankful it was put 
into my heart to have this talk with you right 
at the first, before the wretched habit had got 
settled upon you! — Do be good now, Joe; 
you know you’ve been a bad fellow about all 


JOCELYN HAS HER SAY. 


175 


this ; but do be good now, and let us all be 
good and happy together again ! I’m so glad 
about the boat; I think it is awful good in 
father, — and he does care, Joe ” 

“He’s a brick,” said Joe decisively; “he’s a 
regular brick, that’s what he is; and as for 
you, J. J., you’re a brick too ! And I mean to 
deserve it of you both.” 

And with this Jocelyn was fain to be con- 
tent: she knew how much it meant from Joe. 


CHAPTER VIH. 


A LESSON FOB JULIET. 

u T SEE the old Vaughn house is occupied at 

-L last,” said Mr. Jerome one morning at 
breakfast some weeks later. “ I happened to 
pass that way yesterday for the first time in a 
great while.” 

“ Why yes, father,” volunteered J em promptly. 
“ The people moved in more than a month ago. 
They’re some relation to the Blands, and their 
name is Pickett. There’s one of the girls in 
my class at school, but I don’t like her much.” 

“ There is one of them in my class too, and I 
do like her, very much,” supplemented Juliet 
in her cool inimitable way. “ I intend to call 
upon her soon, and when she has returned the 
call I should like to invite her to go out with 
us in the boat some evening.” 

For the boat, to the great enjoyment of the 
whole family, was already an accomplished fact. 
Mr. Jerome, anxious to try its effect with his 
son, especially, after a second talk with Joce- 
lyn, had arranged for its purchase at once ; 
but on the principle of lightly won lightly 
( 176 ) 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 


177 


prized, he permitted the young people to assume 
a certain share of its cost, and they all felt that 
the pleasure it brought was well worth the 
small sacrifice exacted. 

It had really worked wonders with Joe 
already ; the sullenness and gloom had been 
put to flight by this new delightful interest and 
activity ; the boy was his own open jolly self 
once more, and his father found his own zest 
in life re-stimulated by the share he took in the 
lad’s untiring pleasure. He found himself get- 
ting up, and without reluctance, earlier than 
he had been in the habit of doing for years, to 
give Joe lessons in the art of managing his 
pretty craft ; and he felt his pulses thrill, as he 
scarcely thought they would ever do again, to 
the old keen excitement of what Joe tersely 
termed “ a bite and a fight.” 

Many was the spoil of fresh delicious “ spot ” 
or mackerel, these two ardent sportsmen 
brought home for breakfast, to the great satis- 
faction of Peggy, the cook ; and what Jocelyn 
cared more for, the better treasure of bright- 
ened spirits and strengthened health, and best 
of all a daily increased confidence and affection 
between father and son. 

The girls had their full share of the enjoy- 
ment too. Only Jem cared enough for fishing 
to rise betimes and be off with her father and 
12 


178 


IN mother’s place. 


Joe: she was a capital little “catch;” had none 
of her sisters’ feminine shrinking from the dis- 
agreeable and painful part of the business, and 
marched home with her small trophies as 
proudly and triumphantly as Joe himself. But 
for the others the charm was when the “Jay- 
bird ” spread her white wings and breasted the 
bright waves at sunset time, or when the 
moonlight bewitched them so with its glamour 
as they glided like a dream along the wooded 
shores, now in light, now in shadow, that they 
could scarcely bring themselves to leave it. 

They had shared their pleasure liberally with 
their friends, and many was the merry party 
who had joined them in making the echoes ring 
with song and with laughter. It but added to 
their own enjoyment to make others happy — 
but this new girl, this stranger — were they 
quite sure about her ? 

Juliet’s remark had not been addressed to 
any one in particular, and Mr. Jerome glanced 
questioningly from her toward her older sister. 

Jocelyn hesitated a moment;, she had met 
the young lady in question herself, and had not 
been favorably impressed with her manner. 
“Let us get acquainted with her first,” she said 
pleasantly. “ What is your objection to her 
sister, Jem ? You’re rather quick to take up 
likes and dislikes, aren’t you, little girl? ” 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 


179 


“Oh, I don’t know,” said Jem hesitatingly. 
“ She’s what I call 4 catty,’ Fanny Pickett is. 
She kind o’ purrs and paws round you when she 
wants you to show her how to do her sum's, or 
to trade some part of your lunch that you like 
for some part of hers that you don’t. And 
then if she happens to hear any of the girls say 
anything nice about you, she comes and tells 
you she’s got a swap for you, last go ; and she 
wouldn’t give it to you, no, not for the world, 
till you go and try to get somebody to say some- 
thing nice about her in return.” 

“Is it English Jem is talking, may I ask,” 
inquired Mr. Jerome dryly; “for really I don’t 
understand — ” 

“ Oh, that’s girls’ slang, father, for the com- 
pliments they go about trading with each other. 
Big business, isn’t it ? Of all vain things upon 
earth, girls are the — ” 

.“Vainest, except boys,” interposed Jem, 
shrewdly. “ Don’t I remember how a certain 
youth I know colored up and beamed the other 
evening when somebody told him how manly he 
looked in his blue sailor rig ? ” Joe reddened 
again furiously through all his freckles, and in 
the general laughs at his expense Juliet’s propo- 
sition received no further thought. 

Her purpose was settled however, and that 
very afternoon, coming into Jocelyn’s room on 


180 IN mother’s place. 

lier return from school, she broached the sub- 
ject again. 

“ I think I shall go this afternoon, it is so 
pleasant, and make that call on Clara Pickett,” 
she said. “ They seem to be very nice people ; 
they are only to be here part of the year ; they 
spend the season in Richmond every winter. 
There is no one just your age, still I don’t see 
why you shouldn’t call on the mother : all the 
best people in town have been, Clara says, and 
I don’t see why we should be behindhand in 
politeness.” 

“Nor I,” assented her sister pleasantly. 
“ But it isn’t possible for me to go to-day, be- 
cause I have an appointment for Janet with the 
dentist. The poor child’s teeth need a general 
overhauling.” 

“ Oh ! I’m sorry for you both ! Well, I think 
I shall go then; I half promised Clara.” 

And she did go, and that was the beginning 
of one of those sudden intimacies, those violent 
friendships, that are so apt to spring up between 
girls of their age. 

They petitioned Miss Brandon to allow them 
to occupy the same desk at school ; they called 
for one another in the mornings, and walked 
home together afternoons; they planned to 
spend their Saturday afternoons in each other’s 
society, and of an evening Juliet usually man- 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 


181 


aged that her new friend should be one of the 
boating party. Clara even went so far as to 
proffer a request that Juliet might be allowed 
to come and sit with her in church : “ There are 
so many of you, you know, Miss Jerome ; ” she 
pleaded to Jocelyn; “ but my mother is some- 
thing of an invalid, and doesn’t go to church 
very regularly, don’t care much about these 
country churches, you know ; and neither do I, 
to tell you the truth, they’re so slow, and the 
music so poor, — but then it is something to do, 
somewhere to go, of a Sunday ! And it would 
be so much nicer if Juliet could come and sit 
with me, — can’t she, Miss Jerome ? ” 

But Jocelyn met the free, take-it-for-granted 
smile with a grave look. 

“ Oh, that isn’t our way of feeling about go- 
ing to church, Miss Clara,” she said. “We are 
all very fond of our dear old-fashioned church, 
and of everything connected with it. It has 
seemed like a sort of Sunday home to us ever 
since we were big enough to toddle up the 
aisles, and we couldn’t think of being scattered 
about in different places there. It wouldn’t 
seem the same at all, and my father would not 
like it. He wants all his brood around him, 
under his own wing.” 

“ Oh ! — does he, indeed ? ” and the young 
lady opened her black efes wide in a stare that 


182 IN mother’s place. 

might mean a great many things. “Well; I 
don’t wish to intrude myself, of course. I’m 
only so fond of dear Juliet, here, and indeed, 
of the Richmond churches. But excuse me, — 
there I go again ! ” 

“Nonsense,” interposed Juliet. “There is 
no need of excusing yourself. Of course the 
churches in a fine city must be a great deal 
nicer than ours every way. I don’t wonder 
ours seem ‘slow’ to you. I only wish there 
was any prospect of my ever going to a city 
myself, for the churches, and for every thing 
else ! I’m getting dreadfully tired of Oakleigh.” 

Jocelyn cast a quick pained look at her sis- 
ter. Was one of the jaybirds indeed wearying 
of the home-nest? 

“Oh, don’t say that, dear!” she expostulated, 
but Clara rejoined promptly, “ I don’t wonder, 
poor girl ! It must be awful , except in summer 
time ! And you shall have the prospect, if you 
want it, and if you are allowed, — ” with a 
meaning emphasis in her tone, and a half-per- 
ceptible glance toward Jocelyn. “ I can always 
do as I like, you know ; my mamma is a dear ; 
she believes in liberty ; and she will be most 
happy to invite you to visit us in town next 
winter, if I ask her to. And of course I will 
ask her, if you’ll say you will come.” 

Juliet’s pale, clear-cut face flushed with pleas- 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 


183 


ure at the mere mention of what seemed such a 
delightful thing. But she turned it off with a 
laugh : she was a Virginia girl, and could not 
think of being indebted to a mere stranger for 
such hospitality. 

“ Oh, it’s ever so sweet of you Clara, but of 
course I couldn’t dream of such a thing. Why, 
I shall be in school still, you know.” 

“ Oh, well, what of that ? You can come 
for the Christmas holidays, you know, and crib 
a week before, and a week after. And if that 
is all the time you can possibly spare, why, 
we’ll just have to cram it as full of all sorts of 
jollification as we can ; theatres, parties, vis- 
its ” 

“ Oh ! ” interjected Juliet ; “ do you want to 
quite turn my head?” and Jocelyn hastily 
interposed, trying to speak playfully : 

“ Yes, Miss Clara, I shall have to beg you 
not to upset us simple country folk with visions 
of your gay city life. It isn’t likely ever to 
come in our way, and you found us very happy 
and contented without it. Please leave us so ! ” 

“ Oh ! ” with a half-mocking assumption of def- 
erence, “I wouldn’t presume to think of you 
in the matter, Miss Jerome! But Juliet, — are 
you very contented with Oakleigh, dear? No, 
you are fitted to shine in brighter scenes, and 
we shall have to try to give you the opportu- 


184 


in mother’s place. 


nity one of these days ! But just now,” as she 
rose to go, “ I must be leaving ; I have made 
an unconscionable call already. Can’t you walk 
part of the way home with me, dear ? It is an 
hour yet till dinner.” 

“I haven’t practiced my music yet to-day,” 
hesitated Juliet. 

“ And you know you want to have your 
sonata quite perfect for the church concert next 
week,” suggested Jocelyn gently. 

“ Oh, can’t you make it up some other time?” 
urged Clara, determined to carry her point. 
“ There is something particular I want to speak 
to you about.” 

“Well; I suppose I can get up an hour 
earlier to-morrow morning,” half assented Juliet. 

“And father’s morning nap!” Jocelyn re- 
minded her in a low, wondering tone. 

“ Oh, well, I’ll make it up to-morrow after- 
noon then ! ” said Juliet sharply, seeing the 
mocking light in the big black eyes that were 
watching her. “ I don’t feel like practicing 
now; and when I don’t feel like it I never 
accomplish anything. I’ll have the sonata all 
light, but now I want some fresh air. Come 
on, Clara, if you really must go.” 

“ Oh, indeed I must ! What a dear you are 
to come with me ! I hate to walk alone. 
Good evening, Miss Jerome. Do come soon 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 


185 


and see mamma again; she enjoyed your last 
call so much!” and then, as Jocelyn, bowing 
with grave politeness, disappeared within the 
door, to which, in Virginia fashion, she had 
accompanied the visitor — 

“ Which is more, I am afraid, than Miss 
Jocelyn could say of my call, though I paid it 
on my mother’s behalf to her. I’m afraid your 
gracious sister doesn’t approve of your humble 
servant, Juliet. Or, is her manner like that to 
all your friends, poor girl ? ” 

“ Oh nonsense,” said Juliet hastily. “ Why 
should you imagine Jocelyn doesn’t approve of 
you ? Don’t take up notions, Clara.” She 
colored in spite of herself, and Clara, after a 
quick glance at the delicate flushed face, burst 
into a rallying laugh. 

“Aha!” she exclaimed. “Your cheeks be- 
tray you, my dear. You know she doesn’t like 
me; but you needn’t mind. I shan’t let it keep 
me awake nights as long as she doesn’t come 
between you and me, dearie. I saw I had put 
my foot into it when I venturned to character- 
ize the church as ‘slow.’ But it is slow, mor- 
tally slow, Juliet, my love ! The walls are 
bare, the organ is wheezy, and the minister — 
oh, what long dull sermons he preaches! But 
then, don’t you go to being vexed too— I think 
church is slow anyhow, and sermons always 


186 


IN mother’s place. 


tiresome. I suppose I’m a very naughty girl, 
but I really am afraid I don’t care for anything 
much that doesn’t amuse me ! ” 

“ Oh, but one doesn’t expect to be amused at 
church, Clara!” expostulated Juliet, feeling 
that her friend was going rather too far for her. 

“ Don’t we, then ? Indeed I expect to be 
amused anywhere and everywhere if I only 
can ! And once in a while something does 
happen that is very entertaining even in church. 
I want to tell you about a little affair that I 
witnessed with my own eyes two or three Sun- 
days before I left Richmond. It was a regular 
little act in a drama, just like a bit of side-play 
on the stage. But I forget — you don’t know 
anything about a drama, or the stage, you dear 
little innocent ! Well, we’ll change all that one 
of these days ! Miss Jocelyn to the contrary 
notwithstanding. You were never born to 
vegetate in Oakleigh all your days ! Here, tuck 
your arm in mine, and don’t walk so fast. 
There’s plenty of time. 

“Well: it happened to be what they call For- 
reign Mission Sunday ; there had been a great 
appeal made to the congregation, and a big col- 
lection was expected. There are a good many 
rich men in our church, and one of the richest 
sits just in front of us. Mamma always would 
have her pew in good position of course. One 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 


187 


of the deacons was sick that day, and they 
had asked this gentleman to join the others in 
passing the plates. Well, just before he left 
his pew, he took out his pocket-book — such a 
big fat wallet, full of bank notes ! and took 
out two bills, one a twenty, and the other a 
ten — I could see them just as plain ! The 
twenty he put in his vest-pocket for his own 
contribution, of course, and the other he 
handed to his daughter who sat beside him.” 

“ Well ! ” interjaculated Juliet, who was lis- 
tening with interest. 

“ Yes, well, it was very plain that the young 
lady thought one such sum was enough for just 
a church collection ; I suppose she knew her 
father made regular subscriptions besides ; but 
anyhow, such a look came over her face as she 
saw the big white “ 10 ” on the back of the note ! 
She’s a perfect beauty, you know, and a great 
belle ; and though I’m not acquainted with her 
myself, I know from others that she was en- 
gaged to the gentleman who sat in the pew 
with her; such a handsome fellow, Juliet! 
such an elegant-looking pair ! — Well, she turned 
toward him now, I could see her face, and it 
was just sparkling and brimming over with mis- 
chief. 

“ Why ? where was there any fun in such a 
thing?” 


188 


IN mother’s place. 


“ Well, wait till I tell you. It was the very 
cutest thing I ever saw in my life ! She held 
the note in the hollow of her hand and mo- 
tioned him to notice the size of it. He gave 
a little bit of a start; he couldn’t afford any 
such contribution as that, for handsome as he 
is, an old family, and all that, he’s only a 
young lawyer, just getting settled in his prac- 
tice. She nodded as much as to say, ‘Yes! 
did you ever ?’ and then with just the prettiest 
smiling pout, she nodded again, as much as to 
say, ‘ But I’m not such a goose !’ deliberately 
folded up the bill, slipped it into her pocket, 
and then held out ’that saucy little hand 
again, and whispered something to him with 
her face all over mischief and smiles.” Juliet 
stared, speechless, at her companion, but Clara 
did not observe it, and went on gayly and 
laughingly, as though even the recollection 
were irresistibly amusing to her. 

“Well, her young gentleman laughed back 
at her, but shook his head, and didn’t seem to 
believe she meant it. She did though, and 
she whispered to him again in a very coaxing 
way. He smiled still, but still shook his head, 
and by this time the old gentleman was coining 
toward the pew with the plate. So she whis- 
pered again, and this time she was in such a 
hurry that I heard quite plainly what she said ; 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 


139 


4 It’s only a joke ; of course I’ll make it all 
right with him. Lend me a dollar bill, or the 
smallest one you’ve got, quick! You wouldn’t 
refuse to lend me money, when I ask it of you, 
would you?’ And he just had time to pull 
out a note and give it to her before her fa- 
ther was there. It was all folded up, and he 
didn’t notice what change had been made at 
all ; he just walked straight on, and she — she 
just shook with silent laughter, and the color, 
oh, so lovely ! just like a damask rose, came 
all over her face, and away round her neck 
and ears — I never saw anything so pretty in my 
life ! I watched him to see what he would do ; 
he looked at her as if he was awfulty puzzled, 
and yet as if he couldn’t help thinking she was 
the sweetest thing ! 4 It is really a joke ; you’ll 

make it all right, of course ! ’ he whispered, 
and she just flashed a smile at him, and nod- 
ded her head, and then straightened out her 
face, for other people besides me were begin- 
ning to notice them. But I just know she 
was thinking in her heart that she might as 
well have that big bill as for it to go to con- 
vert some horrid old South Sea cannibal, and 
I don’t believe she ever told her father one 
single word about it. But wasn’t it droll ? 
and hadn’t she pluck ? — I don’t seem to have 
made you see, though, how funny it was ! ” 


190 


in mother’s place. 


“ Funny ! ” Clara started at the outburst of 
indignant disgust in her companion’s tone. 
“ You call that funny ? Well I call it anything 
else ; I call it the worst possible taste if it was 
a joke, and if as I believe with you no joke was 
intended, — for where was the point of it? I 
call it simply shocking ; dishonest, actual 
thieving, and the very worst thieving that 
can be done, from God himself, in his own 
house ! ” 

The young girl stole a hasty glance of alarm 
toward her friend’s face. It was all in a glow 
of honest anger, and the finely cut features 
were set with a look of contempt that boded 
ill, she feared, for herself. Clara Pickett was 
comparatively a stranger in Oakleigh, and not 
a girl to make herself readily popular. She had 
selected Juliet Jerome among all the young 
people of her own age she had met to adopt as 
her “ particular friend.” “She is the prettiest 
and most stylish-looking girl in school,” she 
had said to herself, “and that pure, pale com- 
plexion of hers is just the right foil for my black 
eyes and red cheeks. Good family, too ; nice old 
house, and no mother to be meddling, and for- 
bidding this or that. Guess she’ll suit me best 
of ’em all; got to have somebody, as long as 
we’re obliged to come down to this dead-and- 
alive old fogy place for economy’s sake.” 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 


191 


She had accordingly addressed herself from 
the first to the winning over of the tall, lady- 
like girl, who was always well-dressed and 
well-mannered ; and whose general air of 
rather cool and proud reserve made her con- 
quest all the more of a triumph. And Juliet; 
single-minded, and inexperienced in. the ways 
of the world, and glad to be lifted a little out 
of the soberness which still veiled her own 
home-life, was fascinated by the girl’s gay rat- 
tling manner, her stories of city life, her lively 
talk about all manner of things. She was be- 
guiled also by her professions of affection to- 
ward herself, and the flattery which she knew 
how skilfully to administer; and so found her- 
self gradually, and half-reluctantly, in the posi- 
tion of companion, and confidante-in-cliief to the 
new arrival. 

Half-reluctantly, because, much as she en- 
joyed her new friend’s high spirits and witty 
speech, there had more than once been things 
said in the course of the rattling talk which had 
offended Juliet’s refined taste, or perhaps jar- 
red upon her delicacy or her high-mindedness : 
but Clara was always so quick to detect it when 
she made a mistake, and so cunning in repairing 
it, that she had generally succeeded in effacing 
the impression, and making Juliet think — “It is 
only her nonsense; she doesn’t really mean 


192 


IN mother’s place. 


half the things she says.” She saw plainly 
enough that she had gone too far to-day, and 
felt at once both amazed and alarmed. 

“ Mercy ! the little prig ! ” she said to herself. 
“ But then, I don’t want to give her up, and 
especially I don’t want to give up the boat- 
ing that makes these dull evenings endurable ! — 
Why certainly, my dear,” she made haste to 
say, cleverly trying to make her retreat. “ Of 
course, I agree with you entirely, that it was 
just as dishonest as it could be ! Though I’d 
like to see anybody accusing the elegant Miss 
Delorme of thieving ! But it was, of course, 
just as you say; and all the more shame be- 
cause she didn’t need the money at all. Her 
father can afford to give her everything she 
wants, and I guess he does by the way she 
dresses. But then, that’s nothing, you know, 
my dear ! There are always ways of spending 
money — or of hoarding it ; and I’ve noticed the 
richer people are, the bigger their own dollars 
seem to them to be ; the more they want to 
get for them, and the less do they like to part 
with them. Don’t you think so ? ” 

“ I don’t know, I am sure. I have had very 
little experience of rich people,” answered 
Juliet in a chill, mental tone. Clara flashed 
another sidelong glance at the set, cold face, 
and whistled softly under her breath. 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 


193 


“Well,” she resumed, perseveringly, “you 
keep your eyes open, my dear, and you will 
find that I am right. The more people have 
the more they want, and the less they are 
willing to give away, as a general thing. I 
suppose that Miss Delorme thought all of a 
sudden of something pretty that ten dollars 
would buy, or maybe only that it was a pity to 
let it go out of the family. I’m not defending 
her, no indeed ! don’t think it of me. It wasn’t 
her taking the money that seemed funny to 
me ; it was only her cute way of doing it, all 
the pretty by-play — but you are not minding 
what I’m saying, Juliet! What are you stop- 
ping there for ? ” 

“I really can’t go any farther with you, 
Clara. I must turn back at once ; dinner will 
be ready.” 

“Oh! dinner! What do girls care about 
horrid hot dinners in the summer-time? Come 
down with me to Naylor’s and I’ll treat to ice- 
cream, and then we can take as long a walk 
as we like. And when you get home, make 
the cook give you something. Why, I wouldn’t 
be bound down so to hours and rules, if I 
were you. You are not so much younger 
than your sister; I should think you might be 
your own mistress ! ” 

“I am as much so as I wish to be. My 

13 


194 


IN mother’s place. 


father likes to have us all around him at the 
table, and we all like to please him.” 

Juliet’s tone was still cool and unbending, 
and her companion concluded it would be as 
well to give up the case for to-day. Not 
without one last attempt, however; and ingen- 
iously turning the sneering laugh that rose to 
her lips with a little plaintive half-sigh, she 
said, 

“Does he care so much? Ah, you are all 
dear, model people, entirely too good for poor 
rattlepate me ! But that’s why I like to be 
with you, J uliet ; that’s why I care more for 
your company than any other girl’s in town: 
because I think maybe I may grow to be some- 
thing like you one of these days ! Good-bye, 
dear; I won’t keep you another minute against 
your conscience ; but I shall be round for you 
to-morrow afternoon ! ” 

And Juliet, who a moment before had felt 
that she did not wish to see her very soon 
again, mollified by the flattering suggestion, so 
adroitly put, returned the kiss effusively offered, 
and walked home, wondering in her own mind 
if it would be quite right to throw off a girl 
who evidently had had so little good influence 
brought to bear upon her, and to whom she 
might really hope to be a help. 

It was perhaps unfortunate that Jocelyn 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 195 

should have taken just that evening to say to 
her, pausing on the landing as they were going 
up to bed, 

“ Juliet, do you care so very much about that 
new acquaintance of yours, Clara Pickett? 
Don’t be vexed if I say I don’t quite like your 
intimacy with her. I don’t like her manners, 
or her way of talking.” 

“ Because you set out with a prejudice 
against her, Jocelyn. But I suppose city peo- 
ple, used to a great deal of going out, and all 
that sort of thing, are never so prim and par- 
ticular as we are with our old-fashioned com- 
pany-manners. And as for her talk, I know 
she rattles on a good deal of nonsense, but I 
believe she really wants to improve, and I think 
maybe I can help her.” 

“ I’m afraid she will be more likely to harm 
you,” urged Jocelyn, with loving insistence. “ I 
don’t think I am prejudiced against her, but I 
have an intuitive feeling.” 

“ Only another name for prejudice very often, 
I think,” rejoined Juliet, coldly. “I am much 
obliged to you, Jocelyn, of course ; but I am 
not a baby any longer, and I really think I may 
be trusted to take care of myself in this mat- 
ter. Good-night.” And she turned and went 
on up to her own bed-chamber. 

Her sister went into her room, the dear fam- 


196 


IN mother’s place. 


ily room that had been her mother’s, with a look 
of trouble and perplexity upon her sweet grave 
face. 

“I don’t seem to get on with Juliet at all,” 
she was thinking sadly to herself. “ What do 
I do to make her hold herself so aloof? And 
what can I do to bring her nearer to me ? Sis- 
ters, so near of an age, we ought to be such 
friends ! And instead, that strange girl, whom 
I don’t trust.” 

She lay awake a long time pondering the 
matter; and found relief at last only in taking 
her trouble to her Best Friend, entreating his 
help and guidance, and leaving it humbly to his 
own time and way. 

In the meantime, Clara, chuckling inwardly 
over her own cleverness in managing, con- 
tinued to come back and forth to the Jaybirds’ 
Nest as freely as ever, and much more freely 
than Juliet went to her. Clara rather prefer- 
red that this should be so ; time hung very 
heavy, on her idle hands these long summer 
days, and it gave her something to do, the 
dressing after her midday nap^ and loitering up 
the broad, shady street toward her friend’s 
house ; displaying her charming toilets to any 
chance observers, dropping in at the shops, turn- 
ing over their simple wares, and exchanging 
chit-chat with the youths who stood behind the 


A LESSON FOE JULIET. 197 

counters, and who were only too glad to while 
away their none too busy hours, bartering 
small-talk with so attractive and so facile a 
customer. 

“ Why, isn’t it just jolly,” she exclaimed one 
day, when she had been up to get Juliet to go 
with her on some trifling shopping expedition. 
“ Of course, in the city, it would never do to ac- 
knowledge an acquaintance with a mere dry- 
goods clerk.” 

“ Why not ? If he was all right in other re- 
spects ? ” inquired Juliet in her straightforward 
way. Clara gave her a queer look. 

“ Oh, you dear unsophisticated thing, you ! 
Because it wouldn’t ! — But here, why I hear 
some of the best old names in the state among 
the clerks ; so little else for them to do down 
here I suppose, and impecunious enough, of 
course. But never mind, they come from gen- 
tlemen’s families, and I don’t see any harm, do 
you, in passing away some of the dull moments 
in a little talk and laugh like them. I think 
we had a real jolly time with those young fel- 
lows in at Bolton’s, and oh, what a 4 swap ’ that 
handsome young Pryor gave me for somebody! 
I guess we’ll have to do as they begged us — call 
again. Only fancy their actually making iced 
lemonade for us right there in the store ! Im- 
agine such a thing in Richmond ! But don’t 


198 


in mother’s place. 


you wish I’d tell you what a beautiful compli- 
ment you had ! ” 

The color came into Juliet’s clear cheek, but 
not all together from the cause her companion 
would have attributed it to. She felt a little 
annoyed with herself for having been beguiled 
into spending nearly an hour making-believe 
to look over a stock of ribbons and embroideries 
that could easily have been exhausted in ten 
minutes, but in reality, “ visiting ” with these 
youths. She knew she could never have con- 
sented to do it if one of them had not been a 
sort of distant cousin, a relationship acknowl- 
edged in Virginia to the fifth or sixth degree 
— but even so, she did not feel satisfied with 
herself, and there was something — more than 
the slang — which jarred upon her in Clara’s 
speech. She answered with some sharpness; 
“ Indeed, you must count me out, please, in any 
such plan. It isn’t my way to be calling upon 
the clerks in the stores, and I’m afraid that’s 
about what we’ve been doing this afternoon. 
Hereafter, if they want to see me, they must 
do it at my father’s house. The Pryors would 
be welcome there, of course; our great-great 
grandfathers were cousins, and came over from 
England together.” 

Clara gave her companion one of her quick 
side-glances, and bit her lip to conceal the 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 


199 


amusement she felt at this statement, made in 
all simplicity and dignity. 

“ Yes, but you know dear,” she said, “ how 
much courage it takes for a smitten youth to 
make a formal call upon his charmer, and be 
received, as likely as not, by her solemn papa, 
or her stately grown-up sister. You won’t be 
so primmy, I know, or so cruel ; and there isn’t 
one thing out of the way in a little friendly 
chat and nonsense over our shopping, and when 
I see you to-morrow you’ll agree with me I’m 
quite sure. Good-bye!” 

Juliet did not see her on the morrow, how- 
ever. She could not feel quite reconciled to her 
own share in yesterday’s performance, and she 
felt instinctively that she would not like either 
her father or Jocelyn to know of her lingering 
to talk and laugh with the young clerks in 
the shop, and of her accepting a hospitality 
which was rather a presumption, though meant 
doubtless, in all good-natured courtesy, in them 
to offer. She began to feel conscious of a 
certain doubt as to whether Jocelyn were not 
right in thinking that Clara was more likely to 
harm her than she to help Clara. Certainly 
she had not perceived any evidence as yet of any 
influence for good she possessed for her new 
friend; while she scarcely ever spent an hour 
with her without haying something to remejn- 


200 


m mother's place. 


ber which was not exactly agreeable ; such a 
feeling mentally, as is physically expressed by 
“a bad taste in the mouth.” She was afraid 
Clara was what is called “ fast ” ; she saw that 
she was free in her manner, and flippant in her 
talk; she did not like it, and she began to feel 
less and less confidence in her power to effect 
any real or lasting change in her. 

“ But, poor girl,” she said to herself; “there 
is this excuse to be made for her ; she evidently 
has never had any proper bringing up at home ; 
her mother is a shallow, rather vulgar, fashion- 
able woman ; she either doesn’t see Clara’s 
faults, or won’t take the trouble to correct 
them. I don’t quite like to give her up; she 
can’t do anything so very much out of the way 
when she is with me; and if I throw her over, 
I don’t know what she might be up to. I shall 
have to be more careful, that’s all, and maybe I 
can be of some help to her yet. And there’s no 
denying it, when she isn’t too coarse, she’s 
capital good company. All the rest of the 
girls seem dull beside her!” 

And so, controlled by these double influences, 
J uliet yielded again to Clara’s persistent seek- 
ing, and though she went less and less frequently 
to visit her, she continued to welcome her in 
much the old way at the Nest; and as the long 
summer days rolled leisiirely by there were few 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 


201 


on which they did not see each other. Jocelyn 
did not interfere again: she saw very little of 
them when they were together, for they were 
either “ cosying ” up in Juliet’s room, or out in 
the hammocks on the cedared lawn. And as 
no special harm seemed to have accrued thus 
far from the intimacy, undesirable as she still 
felt it to be, and as she had great confidence in 
Juliet’s own sense of what was right and 
proper, she was fain to let the friendship run its 
own race. 

It was with some difficulty however, that she 
refrained from putting in a demurrer one even- 
ing when she chanced to hear her father’s con- 
sent being coaxed from him by Clara to a plan 
of which she felt a sudden intuitive distrust. 
She was sitting by her bedroom window with little 
Jessie on her lap, telling her the twilight story 
which always sent her good-naturedly to bed. 
She had just finished, for the hundredth time, 
perhaps, the wonderful tale of the two lambs, 
“Peace and Inexperience,” and Jessie was lean- 
ing back against her breast, in her little white 
night-gown, pondering over the touching little 
allegory, which had ever a new and thrilling 
interest for her; and in the silence of the hour, 
Jocelyn distinctly heard the high, rather shrill 
tones of Clara’s voice making its appeal to her 
father out on the piazza below. 


202 


in mother’s place. 


“ It’s a Sunday-school picnic, you know, Mr. 
Jerome,” she was saying; “not from our 
church, I know, but one that lots of the nicest 
people belong to. The Ritchies and Carrs — 
you know them well enough! Well, they are 
all going, and they wanted me to come and 
be sure to bring ‘that sweet Juliet’ with me. 
It’s going to be just splendid, the boat is 
such a nice, big, safe one, the Pocahontas, you 
know, and we are going away up the river, a 
great deal farther than we have ever been 
before, where the scenery is really beautiful, 
they say, the banks regular bluffs, high and 
rocky, and the woods, well ! just grand. And 
mamma is going with us as chaperone, of course, 
and we can keep to ourselves, our own party, 
and be just as select and exclusive as you can 
possibly wish; and you will let Juliet go, won’t 
you, Mr. Jerome? But then I know you 
couldn’t be so cruel as to refuse ! ” 

Jocelyn listened anxiously, but her father 
seemed to be considering for a moment. Pres- 
ently he said hesitatingly, “Well, I scarcely 
know, Miss Clara. I think we had better see 
what Jocelyn says.” 

But Clara’s voice was heard again, protesting. 
“Now, what for, Mr. Jerome? Just as if 
your judgment wasn’t equal to the occasion! 
Why Miss Jocelyn isn’t so very much older 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 


203 


than Juliet herself, and anyhow, I can’t im- 
agine why she should want to stand in the way 
of a little pleasure for her. Come now, just 
decide it yourself, won’t you, please ! It’s such 
a simple thing ; we shall be home by sunset, 
and mamma will be there. Come now, do say 
yes, won’t you?” 

Another hesitating pause, and then, 

“ What do you think about it yourself, Juliet ? 
You have never been away anywhere before 
without any of the others.” 

“Just as you think best, father, of course. 
But I don’t quite see how that sort of thing can 
be helped now. Jocelyn is so grown-up, you 
know, and the others such children.” 

u And you want to go, I see that,” said her 
father, kindly. “ Well, I don’t like to refuse 
you, or you either, Miss Clara, and I don’t 
know any particular reason why I should. The 
boat is safe, I know ; I know the superintendent 
of the Sunday-school too, Mr. Pitt, and that he 
is a thoroughly reliable gentleman ; and as Mrs. 
Pickett is going as chaperone, and others of our 
friends are to be there, why, I guess I’ll have to 
do as I’m bid and say yes.” 

“There! I knew you would!” Jocelyn 
heard Clara exclaim exultantly. “Juliet, do 
you know you have got the nicest father in the 
world — my own, of course, always excepted ! ” 


204 


in mother’s place. 


And just then, little Jessie lifted her head, 
gave a drowsy little yawn, said sleepily, “I’m 
so glad, Dottelyn, that old lion didn’t get poor 
little Inespeyence after all ! And now I want 
to go to bed,” — and Jocelyn saw that the affair 
was settled, without reference to her; and in 
spite of a reluctance which she instinctively 
felt, she decided not to suggest any objections, 
lest Juliet should feel that it was always her in- 
clination to play the part of croaker. 

“ I’ll get father to go down and see her safely 
off,” she said to herself, “and I don’t suppose any 
harm can really come of it. If only mother — ” 

But unfortunately, when the morning of the 
excursion arrived, fresh and beautiful, Mr. 
Jerome found himself in no condition to be up 
and about. Sitting out too late in the damp 
evening air had brought on an attack from the 
“ dearest foe” of that low lying region, ague and 
fever. He had passed a very uncomfortable 
night, and Jocelyn found herself fully occupied 
after breakfast in the needful attendance upon 
him. She went to the door however to see her 
sister off, and ventured a tiny suggestion of 
warning : 

“We don’t know the Picketts, very well, 
dear, and we shall trust more to your own 
chaperonage of yourself than to theirs, maybe. 
Have a real good time, but be careful I ” 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 


205 


And Juliet nodded and said she would, and 
hurried off in the best of spirits, — nobody ever 
felt anxious about chills and fever — to meet her 
friend, according to agreement, at her own 
house. She found a big old-fashioned, carry-all 
drawn up in front of the door. It was already 
pretty well filled with people, laughing and 
chattering gaily together, and Clara herself was 
running down the steps, looking very chic in a 
white piqu6 frock with the jauntiest of scarlet 
jackets, and her black eyes dancing with excite- 
ment. 

“ Oh, there you are,” she cried, as she espied 
Juliet: “come, scramble in this very minute, 
my love; we’re late as it is. Go ahead, driver, 
we’re all here — baskets and all!” and the man 
cracked his whip, and away they went, rattling 
down the crooked old street -that led to the 
little steamboat wharf. 

“ Why, where is your mother ? ” Juliet asked, 
as soon as she had got wedged into a seat, and 
could look about her and see who were the 
occupants of the wagon. But Clara contrived 
to evade answering ; she assumed to be in great 
concern as to the whereabouts of a certain box 
containing breakables, and in the midst of her 
fussy search, and the laughing protests of the 
others who declared it was impossible to move 
an inch to the right or to the left, and the 


206 


in mother’s place. 


merry calls of greeting to other vehicles 
loaded with gay groups on the same pleasure 
bent, the short trip down to the dock was ac- 
complished, a loud cheer was set up at sight of 
the steamboat, all fluttering with Jennons and 
streamers, waiting their arrival, and Juliet 
found herself pushed along with the hurrying 
crowd, on board, and fairly launched out in 
mid-stream before she had an opportunity to ask 
again, this time rather wonderingly, 

“ Why where is Mrs. Pickett, Clara ? I don’t 
see her anywhere.” 

Clara cast a glance, half appealing, half 
defiant, at her friend. 

“Now don’t go and be pudgicky about it, 
Juliet,” she said, “and especially with me, for 
it’s none of my fault, and I couldn’t help it. 
Mamma said she had one of her bad sick-head- 
aches this morning, and she couldn’t possibly 
be out in the sun on the water.” 

“And she isn’t here — she isn’t coming!” 
exclaimed Juliet, startled and incredulous. 

“No, she really is not ; but what earthly dif- 
ference does it make ? The boat is full of peo- 
ple — old, as well as young. How much taking 
care of do you want, Miss Baby ?” 

Juliet turned fairly pale with the sudden 
rush of anger and distress. What would her 
father, what would Jocelyn say? What au- 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 


207 ' 


dacity in this girl to dare to deceive her thus ! 
And how utterly helpless she was ; how power- 
less to change the state of things ! 

“But it does make a difference !” she broke 
out in a passion of indignation. “And you 
knew it would make a difference, Clara, and 
that is why you wouldn’t answer me about 
your mother till you got me on board. It is 
just a shameful piece of deception: you knew 
I would take it for granted she had gone on 
before : and now here we are, away out in the 
middle of the stream, and what am I going to 
do?” 

“ Going to do? Why just be a sensible girl, 
and have a good time like the rest of us ! And 
don’t use such terms, please, Juliet, about a 
little innocent ruse practiced for your own 
sake! I must say, I’m surprised at you! I 
think instead of getting into a tantrum you 
ought to feel very much obliged to me for 
managing so that you should get your trip 
after all. I couldn't help my mother’s having, 
a headache ; I think myself, she could have 
come if she had had a mind to : but I wasn’t 
going to give up my fun because of. that, and 
she never thought of requiring it. But I knew 
well enough that very particular sister of yours 
would insist upon your staying at home if she 
knew mamma was not going, and I cared 


208 


IN mother’s place. 


enough for you to take the risk of making you 
angry for a minute rather than to have you lose 
the pleasure. But I tell you frankly I want 
you to get over it now, and not spoil every- 
thing for us both.” Juliet made no answer; 
she felt it safest not to speak yet. 

“ Now just think,” Clara went on ; “ how 
you would have felt, poking back home alone, 
while all the rest of us went off with colors 
flying. How pleased your sister would have 
been; how the youngsters would have bothered 
you with exclaiming and asking questions; how 
Joe would have poked fun, boy-like ! I 
wanted to save you from all that, and give you 
a good time; and I think you ought to be 
pleased instead of mad with me. Come now,” 
changing her tone of protest to one of coaxing, 
“be good, Juliet; be your own dear nice self, 
and you’ll see everything goes on just as well 
as can be. There’s no need of special chap- 
erons on a Sunday-school picnic ; the teachers 
are here, and the superintendent, and what 
more can be needed? Come, straighten out 
your face, do ; here come two of the boys ; 
they are looking for us, I know ; and one of 
them is your particular admirer; but he won’t 
have the courage to speak to you if you set 
your lips like that!” 

Juliet still answered nothing: she desired 


A LESSON FOE JULIET. 


209 


earnestly to quit Clara at once, and she cast 
an almost desperate glance around the boat to 
see if she could discover any group whom she 
knew well enough to join ; but in all the gay 
crowd her look fell upon no desirable party 
with whom she felt sufficiently intimate to im- 
pose herself upon them uninvited. There was 
no sign of either the Ritchie family, or the 
Carrs ; very possibly, she thought with a con- 
temptuous curl of her lip, there had been a 
‘ ruse ’ about their coming also, and they were 
not here at all ! Meanwhile, young Pryor was 
unmistakably here, and making his way as rap- 
idly as he could, in and out, among the crowd- 
ed seats, towards the nook in which Clara had 
ensconced herself and her companion : and J u- 
liet, in the stress of her annoyance at finding 
herself virtually alone for a whole long day in 
the midst of a strange throng, was suddenly con- 
scious of a sort of relief in the thought, “at 
least, he is kin, even if it is ever so far off!” 
and received him with more of a welcome than 
he had ventured to anticipate. 

His comrade, a young assistant in lawyer 
Quimby’s office, was evidently expected by 
Clara, as was shown by the quick interchange of 
conscious glances, and he promptly took posses- 
sion of a camp-stool which she had dexterously 
continued to keep hidden by her draperies:. 

14 


210 


in mother’s place. 


while Douglas Pryor proceeded to make him- 
self as comfortable as might be on a pile of life- 
preservers that lay conveniently near, and look- 
ing up with his brown eyes sparkling, freely ex- 
pressed his satisfaction in the existing arrange- 
ment of things. 

“ This is what I call pleasant,” he said. 
“ Miss Clara told me she was going to-day to try 
to persuade you to come, Miss Juliet, but I 
wasn’t quite sure whether she had succeeded or 
not. I certainly feel indebted to her, for my part. 
And I hope you’ll enjoy it too : I think we are 
going to have a glorious day.” 

He was a frank, pleasant-faced young fellow, 
bright and yet modest withal ; full of quiet 
fun, and with an abundant fund of easy Small- 
talk ; and Juliet, finding a certain support in 
the recollection of that cousinship of their 
mutual great - great - great grandfathers, per- 
mitted herself to take the comfort of the pres- 
ent relief from Clara’s society, and by and by, 
to be entertained, and to make herself en- 
tertaining in return. They discovered before 
long that there were a great many points of 
similarity in their tastes, and their manner 
of looking at things ; they liked much the 
same sort of books and people, and gravely 
agreed that they were “fond of the water,” 
preferred tennis to croquet, thought “ Old 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 


211 


Madrid ” the sweetest song in the world, and 
“ detested flirtation.” 

“ Wherein we differ from our friends here,” 
said Douglas, with a laughing glance over 
toward Clara and young Carter, who were 
evidently devotees of the art, and well-matched 
in all its mysteries. 

There was one special bond of sympathy 
between our two young people ; they had both 
lost their best and best-beloved friend; and 
Juliet felt herself deeply touched by the tender 
way in which her new friend spoke of his dead 
mother ; and how, after she had left them, he 
couldn’t bear to stay at home, and had begged 
his father to let him leave the old farm up the 
river, and come down to Oakleigh and go into 
business. 

“My brother Bob is the farmer,” he said, in 
his frank, modest way, taking it for granted 
that his companion would be good-naturedly 
interested in his affairs : “ he likes it, and will 
stay there always with my father. But I, I 
always had a fancy I would like to be one of 
those great merchants, don’t you know, who 
have their ships coming and going in all parts 
of the world, and 4 do business in great waters 
and who knows,” laughing, and yet quite in earn- 
est, “ if the new South goes on as she has begun, 
what may happen within the next dozen years 


212 IN MOTHER’S PLACE. 

or so ? Oakleigh may be a port of entry, and 
my little investment — I put a little money my 
mother left me into the store, so that I have a 
small interest, something more than a mere clerk- 
ship — my little investment may swell to a great 
fortune, and I may be a merchant-prince yet, 
don’t you see, Miss Juliet? ” 

And then they both laughed, and Juliet said, 
“Poor little Oakleigh! she was afraid it would 
be a long time first ! ” and then confessed her 
own desire to escape from its narrow confines, 
and try her powers in some wider sphere. “ She 
didn’t want to grow up to be just the regulation 
young lady,” she confided to him ; “ and settle 
down into the ordinary domestic woman. She 
had all sorts of ambitions, she averred, she 
scarcely knew what, to be a woman-doctor, or 
lawyer, or inventor, or something ; a doctor she 
believed she preferred; it was such a grand 
vocation — a healer of bodies — next to that of 
the minister, who is a healer of souls ; but that 
she was sure she would never be good enough 
for. No, a doctor would do ; how would it 
sound — Dr. Juliet Jerome — ” 

And then they both laughed again, but the 
young man saw that his fair young companion 
was more than half in earnest, and set himself 
wholly to disabuse her mind of any such 
predilection, and convince her that there is no 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 


213 


vocation on earth so high and so happy for 
woman as just the old sweet accustomed one, 
of household fairy, genius of the home, bright 
guardian spirit of the fireside. 

There is a great deal usually, to be said on 
both sides of this momentous question, and the 
young people found that it took some time to 
present to each other their various arguments 
pro and con. They drifted from this into other 
talk, now grave, now gay, or fell into pleasant 
silences, when they sat quietly looking out at 
the swift flowing water, or the high wooded 
banks ; or idly watching the changing groups 
around them, and listening to the snatches of 
talk and song and laughter with which the 
whole boat was alive. 

J uliet was glad however, when a little after 
they found themselves approaching the little 
riverside landing, from which a path wound 
up the steep rocky bank, higher and higher, 
until it presently reached a broad, open, grassy 
plateau, dotted thickly with great shady pines 
and chestnuts. It was an ideal spot for a 
picnic, so high and breezy ; and there was the 
brightest of hillside brooks dancing down from 
the rocks above, foaming and laughing along 
its stony bed, and dashing over the bluff in the 
fairest of waterfalls. Juliet thought it a great 
deal pleasanter place than the bayside resort to 


214 in mother’s place. 

which her own Sunday-school had been in the 
habit of going ; but the thought that was most 
agreeable to her, as she saw the gay groups 
winding, full of laugh and chatter, up the steep 
path, was that now she would be able to find 
some other acquaintances, and break up the 
tSte-a-tHe which her good taste told her had al- 
ready lasted more than long enough. 

She contrived to get a word in private with 
Clara. 

“ Do let us join some nice party,” she said, 
“if there is any you know well enough. I 
don’t like for us two girls to be so much alone 
with just those boys. People will be noticing 
and saying things.” 

“ Well, let ’em ! ” rejoined Clara, with a loud 
laugh and shrug of her shoulders. “ It will 
only be because they are jealous and envious ; 
they’re the two nicest fellows on the whole 
ground, and I don’t mean to give mine up, I 
promise you. I don’t mind spiteful tongues; 
I just enjoy making people envy me ! ” 

Juliet winced, almost as if she had had a 
blow. Surely Clara had never shown herself 
so coarse before, or she must have noticed it, 
and given her up in disgust ! She stood silent, 
with such an expression upon her face that 
Clara, who did not wish to lose her altogether, 
thought it best to compromise. 


A LESSON FOB JULIET. 215 

“ I think it would be a great deal better fun, 
myself, if we just kept to ourselves, our own 
quartette ; but of course, I’d rather please you 
than myself, Juliet, since you came at my invi- 
tation. So, if you really want to, we’ll go over 
and ask the Carrs — I see they’re setting them- 
selves under that big oak for their luncheon — 
if they have any objection to our joining them. 
I guess not however ; they haven’t got a man 
with them, except that stupid-looking son and 
heir of theirs ; Fan and Jennie will be glad 
enough to have our beaux, whether they want 
us or not. So come along ; come, young gen- 
tlemen ! ” 

She spoke freely and laughingly, as though 
she were using only the coin current among 
young people generally, but it all sounded 
strange and unpleasant to her companion, nat- 
urally a high-minded and dignified girl, and 
reared so carefully in the simplicity and seclu- 
sion of the Nest; and Juliet was thankful when 
the proposition was made and graciously ac- 
ceded to, and she could once more have the 
pleasant consciousness of feeling “proper and 
protected,” while helping good, fussy Mrs. 
Carr to unload her huge hamper of provisions, 
and set out her own contribution to the feast. 
She was not accustomed to what Clara called 
“going it alone,” and she did not feel comforta- 


216 


IN mother’s place. 


ble under the sensation, and was entirely willing 
to relinquish the attentions other young cavalier 
to be divided between the Misses Fanny and 
Jennie, and sit quietly under their mother’s 
ample wing, during the discussion of the viands, 
and through the addresses and singing that fol- 
lowed the general repast. 

Not so Clara. She was by nature of an ex- 
citable temperament, apt to become loud on oc- 
casions of hilarity, and make herself conspic- 
uous in company. She leaned back now in a 
careless attitude against the trunk of the great 
shady oak-tree, taking in everything that 
passed with her big black eyes, and ridiculing 
whatever she could find to “poke fun” at. 
This one’s hat, the other’s gown ; the way that 
one talked or walked, all was grist to her mill. 
When good Mr. Pitt, the superintendent, rose 
in the midst of the various groups and began to 
deliver his little rather halting address, she 
kept up a running fire of asides which though 
they were not marked by any special wit, 
made the others laugh in spite of themselves, 
and her special attendant, young Carter, to 
beam upon her with admiration. She began to 
feel herself quite the life of the party, and to 
“carry on so,” in her elation of spirits, that 
Juliet, whose finer sense saw that the others 
were more amused than approving, wondered 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 


217 


uneasily what she would do and say next, and 
tried in vain to catch her eye and give her a 
subduing glance. 

Presently, when what she termed the “speech- 
ifying ” was ended, and people were beginning 
to gather themselves up from their rather con- 
strained positions upon the grass, one of the 
young ladies chanced to notice the gay scarlet 
bolero which Clara was wearing, and spoke of 
it in an aside to her. 

“ What a very pretty little jacket that is you 
are wearing, Miss Pickett,” she said. “ That 
gypsy red always looks so picturesque among 
the green trees — ” and Clara, beaming, and 
brimming over with excited spirits, answered 
with her loud laugh, 

“ Yes, I think it is rather fetching myself. 
And, by the way, there’s a story about this jacket 
if you’d like to hear it. It’ll shock Juliet here, 
I know,” with a mischievous and defiant glance 
of her black eyes, “but then it is too good to 
keep.” 

“Take care, Clara!” Juliet’s own eyes 
pleaded, but the others gathered round, laugh- 
ing and curious. “ Let’s have it, by all means,” 
they said. 

“ Well,” Clara began, throwing her look 
round upon the waiting faces, “ it wasn’t any- 
thing so wonderful after all, only the bargain 


218 


in mother’s place. 


at which I got it ! I was in a store one day last 
winter in Richmond, buying some coarse linen 
and some embroidery silk for a tray-cloth. It 
didn’t amount in all to a dollar, and the parcel 
was so small I should have taken it home with 
me if I hadn’t been going to make some calls 
afterward. Shows how lucky I am that I 
didn’t ! When I got home and opened it — it 
had been sent up already — what do you suppose 
I found? Not my poor little purchases at all, 
but this beautiful piece of scarlet cloth — see 
how fine it is ! and all this elegant gold passe- 
menterie. Now wasn’t that a find worth hav- 
ing?” 

“But — but surely you did not keep it just 
so ! ” broke in the young lady to whom she had 
especially been speaking. “ Of course you took 
it back to the store ! ” 

“Of course I did nothing of the kind, else 
how would I have it on now ! ” rejoined Clara, 
with a reckless laugh. “ I wasn’t such a nin- 
ny. I rushed off for a pattern, cut it out my- 
self that very evening, put it together the 
next day, and wore it over a white silk gown 
to the german that night. Wasn’t that quick 
work? ” 

“But Miss Pickett — you can’t mean — there 
must be some mistake — ” interposed another 
of the party with a perplexed and incredulous 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 


219 


look. “ Why it wasn’t yours — it didn’t belong 
to you ! ” 

“ And the clerk who sold it to you would 
have to suffer,” added Mrs. Carr, moving forward 
and fixing a grave and disapproving eye upon 
the narrator of this singular story. “ The per- 
son who had really bought the cloth would come 
to report the mistake, and he would have to make 
the loss good. You surely did not permit that, 
Miss Pickett? ” 

“ That wasn’t any of my business,” retorted 
Clara, beginning to be angry at being placed on 
the defensive. “It was his business to see that 
parcels were sent to their proper destination, 
and if he didn’t attend to it, it was only right 
• he should suffer. I wasn’t going to take the 
trouble to go trotting down town to carry back 
other people’s parcels and hunt up my own. 
No indeed, I only hoped whoever got mine 
would enjoy it as much as I did hers — and 
that’s the end of my story. I’m sorry you 
don’t find it as amusing as I supposed you 
would ! ” 

If Clara had not been completely “off her 
head ” with the foolish excitability which an 
occasion of merrymaking always aroused in 
her, she would scarcely have risked the impres- 
sion even she might imagine such a recital would 
make ; as it was, when she perceived the looks 


220 


IN mother’s place. 


that were exchanged, the significant silence 
which followed her last defiant sally, her hilar- 
ity gave place to irritation, and she became 
insolent at once. 

“I never chance a failure twice however,” 
she said, “ and I shall make surer of my audi- 
ence next time. Now I shall have the pleasure 
of bidding you good afternoon, ladies,” and she 
swept a mocking glance, and a profound curtsey 
round the group. “ I think I shall play ‘ Excel- 
sior,’ and aspire to greater heights than these. 
Come, Mr. Carter, I challenge you to a climb 
up those higher rocks : I shan’t rest until I’ve 
scaled their very top, and can look down on all 
the world ! Come Juliet — unless you had 
rather stay ! ” and she was off, tossing back a 
reckless laugh as she \^ent, and her scarlet 
jacket making a sort of baleful glow as she 
darted away through the green gloom of the 
trees. 

Juliet stood as if rooted to the spot where 
she was standing under the oak. She did not 
wish to follow Clara ; on the contrary she felt 
as though she never wished to be with her 
again ; and she heartily hoped that some one of 
the party would give some indication of a desire 
on their part that she should remain with them. 
But none of them did anything of the kind. 
Judging probably, according to the old adage, 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 


221 


“ Birds of a feather flock together,” and having 
had but slight previous acquaintance with her, 
they doubtless considered that Juliet was “not 
their style,” any more than her companion, and 
made no overtures for her further society. 

“There are the Randolph girls ; we haven’t 
seen anything of them to-day,” said Miss Fanny 
presently to her sister ; “ we ought to go and 
speak to them,” and with a civil nod to Juliet 
they went off across the green sward, smiling 
to greet their friends. Mrs. Carr busied her- 
self in restoring the plates, cups, and so on, to 
the huge hamper from which they had been 
taken. 

“Let me help you,” offered Juliet, delaying 
as long as she might. But the answer came 
rather coolly, 

“ Thank you, but nobody can ever pack for 
me but myself ; ” and Juliet, quivering with 
such shame and mortification as she had never 
felt before in all her sheltered young life, turned 
hopelessly away toward young Pryor, who had 
been standing near her all this while, awaiting 
her wishes, and lifted her eyes with a sort of 
reluctant wistfulness to his face. 

“ They look like a deer’s, that has been 
wounded,” thought the young man, all the 
chivalry of his nature kindled at the sight of 
the pale hurt face; and there was even more 


222 


in mother’s place. 


than the usual respectful gallantry in his man- 
ner to her, as he said smilingly, 

“Well, Miss Juliet, shall we try the role of 
4 Excelsior ’ too ? I’ve no doubt there’s a beau- 
tiful view from the rocks up above, if you don’t 
mind the climb, — ’’ and Juliet, glad to escape 
in any way from the chilling atmosphere which 
she felt around her, turned silently and followed 
his lead, not knowing what else to do. 

Her companion respected her silence, and did 
not obtrude himself in any way except to offer 
his hand now and then to help her up a specially 
steep place in the rocky path ; and when they 
reached the top of the bluff, he remained quiet 
by her side while she stood, her hands drooping 
clasped before her, and her glance moving now 
up, now down the river where it flowed so far 
below, bright, yet deep, between its darkly 
wooded banks. 

“ It is beautiful, isn’t it,” he said presently, 
“and Miss Juliet, so long as there are such — ” 
But here he was interrupted by a loud ex- 
clamation in Clara’s high shrill voice. 

“ Aha ! so you did prefer my company after 
all: good girl — sensible folks — to leave those 
primpy people down there. I’d invite you to 
share this beautiful grape-vine swing I’ve 
found, but you see there’s only room for two f” 
Juliet glanced reluctantly in the direction of 


A LESSON FOE JULIET. 


223 


the voice, and discovered the bright black eyes 
and red cheeks of her quondam friend peeping 
through the foliage. She was seated with her 
escort, young Carter, in a loop of a great hang- 
ing vine which depended from a huge out- 
stretching pine bough, swinging idly Jo and 
fro, his arms, reaching from side to side, making 
a sort of chair-back, against which she leaned 
nonchalantly enough, as she looked out, her 
face in a glow of mocking mirth. 

Juliet could not answer, and Douglas Pryor 
replied for her, understanding all she was feel- 
ing. 

“Oh, we couldn’t think of robbing you of 
such a pleasure,” he said lightly, and then, un- 
folding the little shawl he had been carrying on 
his arm and spreading it on the grass, “ You 
look pale and all tired out, Miss Juliet. Do sit 
down and rest awhile ; the ground is dry and 
warm, and this old tree the very thing to make 
you comfortable. Now — is that nice ? Because 
if it is, I think I have a friend with me who 
will be very pleasant company for us both.” 

“A friend — company!” repeated Juliet in 
some bewilderment. 

“No less worthy a spirit than Tennyson!” 
replied the youth oracularly ; and then with an 
ingenuous blush, “Indeed, I hope you don’t 
think it’s silly and sentimental to like poetry, 


224 


in mother’s place. 


Miss Juliet. I can’t help being fond of it my- 
self, and as for Tennyson, why I take him with 
me pretty much wherever I go.” And he 
drew forth a little well-worn blue and gold 
volume from his pocket, and held it out, regard- 
ing it with a glance almost of affection. 

Juliet felt a sensation of relief as well as 
pleasure. 

“Now, at least,” she said to herself; “we 
won’t have to depend upon talking, and run the 
risk of personalities;” and she looked up and 
said with something of her old brightness, 

“ What good company you keep! I am very 
glad you thought to invite him to-day, and that 
he condescended to come. They say he is of a 
very shy and solitary habit generally, you 
know. Pray let’s renew our acquaintance with 
him at once.” 

“Will you read, or shall I? Would it tire 
you ? And do you like The Princess ? ” 

The young fellow’s voice was quite eager 
with pleasure. 

“Do you know, I have never read The Prin- 
cess yet,” admitted Juliet. “ All the lovely 
short poems, of course, and The Idyls ; and In 
Memoriam, more than once, this last winter, 
you know. But The Princess — well, it looked 
a little long, and I have rather been saving it — ” 

“For just this very occasion!” said Pryor 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 


225 


eagerly. “ The time, the place, are just fit. 
You know the story was told out of doors, on a 
summer afternoon, when some sort of festival 
was going on, and a few of the party had 
strayed away to a quiet spot — ” 

“Was it?” said Juliet; “ well, go on, please, 
and read it to me at once, while we have time 
and her companion needed no second bidding, 
but began the “ Prologue ” at once. 

He read well ; the noble music of the won- 
derful words lost none of their melody in his 
rendering; the high and stirring thoughts woke 
sympathetic thrills in both sincere young souls. 
The witchery of the tale cast its spell of en- 
chantment upon them, and moments flew by 
uncounted and unwatched, as by turns they took 
the book and read aloud, the one to the other. 

They had been interrupted only once. Clara, 
tiring of the swing after a while, came loitering 
toward them with her companion, and stood 
looking and listening for a moment. Then — 
“Oh, do you like poetry?” she said. “Very 
sentimental and all that, but awfully tiresome, 
I think. Don’t disturb yourselves ; we are go- 
ing a. little farther along the ridge ; there’s 
a farm back “here a little way, Mr. Carter 
says, where there are wild blackberries growing 
in the hedges. We’ll be back presently and 
bring you some if we find any!” And then 


226 


in mother’s place. 


they strolled off, and reader and listener 
went back to their enchantment, and were pres- 
ently, under its spell, oblivious to time and 
circumstance. 

Meanwhile the afternoon was wearing on, 
and the hour approaching, all unconsciously to 
them, when the boat was to arrive again at the 
little landing below, and take up their freight 
of tired but happy excursionists for the home- 
ward journey. An early hour had been chosen 
with regard to the little children of the infant 
class, as the trip itself required an hour or 
more ; and there was nothing in the aspect of 
sky or wood or water, at five o’clock of the af- 
ternoon to rouse these two spell-bound young 
people, to a consciousness that it was time to 
leave their heights, and descend to the level of 
ordinary mortals below. 

Relying upon Clara’s promise to return to 
them, they sat quietly on, absorbed in their 
reading; while Clara herself, failing to find the 
expected blackberries, had taken a sudden 
whim to go down to the dock, and try her suc- 
cess with certain small fishing-tackle which 
young Carter produced from his pocket. There 
proved to be considerable difficulty in the mat- 
ter of bait, and the fish, if any there were so 
near a wharf that was in daily use, declined to 
be tempted by her inexperienced hands. The 


A LESSON FOE JULIET. 


227 


amateur angler suddenly decided to give up 
her fruitless attempts. 

• “ My ! but fishing is stupid business ! ” she 

exclaimed. “ Too slow for me, altogether ; — It’s 
a bore sitting so still and keeping so quiet ; come, 
let’s go along the bank a little farther and see if 
there aren’t any wild flowers; it must be nearly 
time for asters and gentians, or we might find 
a pitcher-plant, or a scarlet cardinal — and scar- 
let is my color, you know ! ” 

Her escort was “agreeable to anything she 
wished,” and they wandered idly along the 
wooded shore in the shadow of the high over- 
hanging cliffs. They had not strolled very far 
however, when in a pause of their laughing 
chitchat, a certain significant sound made itself 
suddenly audible, and they exclaimed with one 
voice — “ The boat ! ” 

“ She must be rounding up to the dock — she 
sounds so near, — ” said young Carter ; “ we 
must hurry back as fast as we can ; she doesn’t 
make very long stops, and there are your 
friends to be called : likely as not they won’t 
hear her away up there.” 

“I don’t see why not:. they’re not babies 
and they’ve got ears as well as we.” 

“Yes, but they were reading, you know, and 
we promised to go back for them, don’t you re- 
member ? ” 


228 


IN mother’s place. 


“Oh well, I can’t help it; we haven’t got 
time to go back for them now, I’m sure,” said 
Clara excitedly. “ And anyhow I’m sure 
they must have heard all the bustle of the rest 
of the people starting. They’re probably 
on the dock by this time — they could see the 
boat coming from far off. It’s ourselves, I’m 
anxious about now ! ” 

“ Oh we have time enough,” said her com- 
panion, re-assuringly ; “and if you wouldn’t 
mind, Miss Clara, if you would let me go on a 
little ahead — I could run so much faster — I 
could just scramble up the rocks and shout to 
your friends ” 

But Clara snatched him excitedly by the 
arm. 

“ No, no,” she protested. “ I mustn’t be left 
alone here ; I don’t see how you can think of it. 
No escort of mine ever proposed such a thing 
before ! — just see how the people are pouring 
down ! The last ones are almost at the bottom 
— they must be among them ! ” 

Young Carter sent his keen glance, as he 
hurried along, up toward the top of the bluff. 
“No!” he exclaimed suddenly, “They are 
not ! They are up there still, I am sure, Miss 
Clara! I remember Miss Juliet’s hat was hang- 
ing on the branch of a tree, and I am almost 
certain I can see it there now ! Do just let me 


A LESSON FOR JULIET. 229 

try and run up a little way where I can make 
them hear me — ” 

But Clara clung forcibly to his arm. “ No, 
no ! I tell you,” she cried. “ Not till you get 
me safely on board the boat. I don’t believe it 
is the hat ; you couldn’t possibly see it so far 
up, among so many trees. It’s a piece of paper, 
or something, that got lodged in the bough. 
We’ll find them on board — see, there’s the 
boat fast already, and the people crowding on 
her ! Of course they’re amongst them ! ” 

Philip Carter allowed himself reluctantly to 
be urged along by his companion ; after all, it 
was this excited girl, clinging nervously to his 
arm, for whose safety and comfort he had made 
himself responsible : and she might be right ; 
they might find the rest of their party on 
board ; at any rate, to go and look, seemed the 
only thing he was to be permitted to do. He 
hurried Clara along as fast as she could go, 
sending eager looks meanwhile in every direc- 
tion in the hope of discovering the objects of 
his search ; and when, as he had feared, no sign 
of them was apparent anywhere, he placed his 
charge upon a seat with what she thought re- 
sentfully rather scant courtesy, and made a 
rush, pushing his way, hither and thither 
among the throng, to try and find the captain 
of the boat and insist upon his delaying a few 


230 


IN mother’s place. 


minutes until the missing pair should be made 
aware of the state of things. 

But push and struggle though he did, re- 
gardless of protest and expostulation, there 
were other arms and shoulders as vigorous as 
his own among the crowd of excursionists, and 
he found himself opposed and delayed in his 
onward progress* until, suddenly, as he was 
wedged upon the narrow stair that led down 
to the lower deck, having rushed up above in 
his eager search, and being met on his return 
by the pushing upward tide, he felt the shock 
of movement, heard the swish of the water 
beneath the paddle wheels, and knew with a 
hot thrill of shame and distress and anger, that 
the boat was off, that his comrade and the in- 
nocent young girl he had with him were left, 
and that he was powerless to help them ! 

In vain he struggled to make his way through 
the on-coming crowd, foolishly excited, impa- 
tient, and regardless of others, as such a crowd, 
on such an occasion, always is. He was sim- 
ply obliged to stand back and let them pass, 
men, women, children, baskets, and all ; and 
when at last he was able to reach the bottom 
of the stair, he found Clara standing there, 
confronting him with a warning face. 

“ Don’t do anything foolish ; listen to me,” 
she said, in a low compelling voice, taking his 













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P. 231. 


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A LESSON FOE JULIET. 231 

arm resolutely, and drawing him toward an un- 
occupied corner. 

At the same moment, two other young 
figures, likewise a youth and a maiden, were 
standing gazing after them, on the darkening 
cliff, with faces suddenly grown white, and 
arms wildly outstretched in vain. 

The reading of the witching tale at last 
ended, the sudden silence, the absence of any 
sound whatever coming up from the erstwhile 
noisy picnic ground below, struck them 
strangely. They looked at each other with 
questioning eyes, and starting to their feet, ap- 
proached the edge of the bluff and looked and 
listened. Silence still ; no sound but the soft 
swish of the waves upon the narrow beach far 
down below, the murmur of the wind in the 
pines, the swift whir of wings as bands of cir- 
cling birds came wheeling toward the woods 
that made their shelter by night. 

Only silence everywhere, solitude, loneli- 
ness ; and the darkness creeping on stealthily 
from the thick groves behind to swallow up the 
light. 

They gazed anxiously up the river, down the 
river, and their look suddenly seemed to become 
petrified as they fell upon a certain object, 
looming, shapeless, in the shadow of the 
wooded shore, moving slowly, but so surely, 


232 


IN mother’s place. 


farther and farther away from them, out of 
hearing of their wild call, out of sight of their 
outstretched arms; and the girl’s tongue seemed 
to cleave to the roof of her mouth, as she 
strove to utter her desolate cry — 

“ The boat ! They have gone, and left us 
here, alone in this lonesome place, at night ! ” 


CHAPTER IX. 


OUT OF THE MESHES. 

46 mHERE is no use in your hurrying below,” 
said Clara, glancing round to see that 
no one was near enough to hear. “ I suppose it 
is the Captain you were going to look for to 
get him to stop the boat and put back to shore. 
It is no use, I am positive he wouldn’t do it ; 
all these mothers with their youngsters would 
protest against it, and say people ought to at- 
tend to their business and be on time. But 
even if it could be done I’m not sure it would 
be the best thing to do.” 

The young man stared at her, holding away 
as though -still impatient to be gone. “What 
do you mean ? ” he said brusquely. “ Not the 
best thing to be done ? ” 

“No,” answered Clara, decidedly. “ Of course 
as a man, you don’t see why ; but a girl sees. 
If we keep quietly here out of the way, no one 
on board probably, will know or care whether 
they are here or not. Luckily there are very 
few people in this crowd whom we know ; we 
haven’t spoken with any of them to-day except 

( 233 ) 


234 


IN mother’s place. 


those primping Carrs, and they happen to be 
all settled away off at the other end of the boat. 
If we don’t publish the fact ourselves, I really 
believe it need never be known, this pretty per- 
formance of those two ninnies ; but if we do, 
can’t you imagine the gossip that would be set 
afloat? And do you think they would thank 
you for getting up an excitement here on the 
boat about them ? ” 

Her companion stood looking at her as if 
brought to bay. “ Gossip ! ” he replied bit- 
terly. “ I should think so ! Oh, it is a shame, 
a shame ! But how on earth is it going to be 
prevented ? What do you propose ? That the 
two ninnies, as you style your friend and mine, 
should be left alone up on those rocks all 
night? You know this boat won’t make an- 
other trip after this ! ” 

“Just so,” rejoined Clara, coolly. “But as 
that is not my fault, you needn’t throw it at 
my head in that fashion, sir ! Nor insinuate 
that I am an utterly heartless wretch. I 
happen to know that Mr. Jerome, the young 
lady’s father, has a boat of his own, only a row- 
boat it is true, but it will serve to bring his 
daughter home. You can go quietly to the 
house when we land, and tell him the state of 
things, and then leave the matter with him. 
He would very much prefer that, I fancy, and 


OUT OF THE MESHES. 


235 


at any rate, it is all we can do now. I don’t 
see that we are responsible anyhow. They are 
not babies, as I said before, and it was their 
business to look out for themselves.” 

“We promised to go back for them,” said 
young Carter, passionately. “ The young lady 
was your guest : we ought to have stayed and 
shared their luck with them ; it was the least 
we could have done ! ” 

“ And be fetched back by the furious papa? 
No thank you, Mr. Carter. I’ve had some very 
enjoyable little trips in that same row-boat, but 
I don’t believe I should find that one agreeable. 
And as for leaving my guest, I invited Juliet 
Jerome as much for her own pleasure as my 
own, and she has chosen deliberately to spoil 
both. She put herself in a temper this morn- 
ing because poor mamma had a headache, as 
though either she or I could help that ! And 
then when I tried to break up the dullness at 
that tiresome lunch, I could see that she quite 
agreed with those stupid Carrs in their con- 
demnation of me and my poor, pretty little 
jacket! She could scarcely continue to be civil 
to me afterward, and I confess I am getting a 
little tired of such overwhelming superiority. 
I consider myself as good a judge of what is 
right and proper as she is, and I don’t fancy 
being always set down upon, and regarded 


236 in mother’s place. 

almost as a criminal. I’m heartily glad we are 
going off to the Springs next week, and then 
back to town ; and if my influence can avail 
anything, we shan’t impose ourselves upon stu- 
pid old Oakleigh or its priggish inhabitants 
very soon again ! In the meanwhile, Mr. Car- 
ter, whatever change of opinion you may have 
honored me with since this morning, I tell you 
frankly I don’t like the change in your manner 
or your tone ; and I must beg you to remetnber 
that you are a gentleman and I am a lady until 
you return me to my mother’s hands.” 

The young man flushed deeply all over his 
frank, ingenuous face, but he could not bring 
himself to speak as yet, and after a moment's 
pause, his companion added in a virtuous, in- 
jured tone, 

“ If I had been so heartless as you seem to 
think me or malicious enough to want to pun- 
ish that girl as she deserves for the impertinent 
air she put on to me; I needn’t have told you 
that her father had a boat, I might just have 
left her to take the consequences of her own 
carelessness. You don’t seem to give me credit 
for that.” 

Young Carter looked at the girl speaking thus 
coolly with a gaze almost of horror. “ Give 
you credit f6r not being quite a fiend ! ” was 
on his lips to utter, and he had to use all his 


OUT OF THE MESHES. 237 

will to suppress it. He would have liked to 
say that to her ; he would have liked to say also 
that he quite agreed in the opinion of the other 
listeners to the shameless story she had told, 
expecting them to find a good joke in what was 
neither more nor less than positive dishonesty ; 
it would have been a relief to the feelings that 
were surging hot within him to tell her out- 
right that he did think her not only almost, 
but altogether, a “ criminal.” But he was too 
much of a gentleman to use harsh language to 
a young girl, and especially a young girl whom 
he had liked and admired, whose society for 
the day he had eagerly sought, and in whose 
charge she had consented to place herself. He 
was obliged to content himself with only a 
muttered exclamation, and unable to sit quiet 
by her side, he started to his feet, and stood 
leaning over the railing of the boat, his face 
set in an expression of bitter annoyance as he 
looked out over the darkening waters in moody 
silence. 

It was anything but an agreeable journey 
homeward to these two young people. Else- 
where gay parties were grouped together, 
laughing and talking, singing boat-songs with 
musical refrains, and continuing the enjoyment 
of their day’s outing to the last moment. Lit- 
tle children, tired with pleasure, nestled up to 


238 


in mother’s place. 


their mothers’ side or climbed up into their 
lap and went peacefully to sleep; the gentle- 
men chatted together, or smoked in contented 
silence; the sunset reddened all the west, and 
set the water aglow with its rich reflection; 
over the woods in the East the evening star 
was already peeping, and the superintend- 
ent of the Sabbath school, rubbing his hands 
together with satisfaction, remarked to one of 
the deacons; 

“One of the most delightful excursions we 
have ever had, sir. Everything has passed off 
without a single hitch.” 

It did not come into his province to look af- 
ter the outsiders who had chosen to take that 
opportunity, at their own expense, and under 
their own management, to take a trip up the 
river ; and he had no knowledge and no 
thought of the two estrays left behind upon 
the lonely shore, nor yet of the other two, 
holding themselves aloof from his charge and 
from each other, and finding but sorry company 
in their own disagreeable thoughts. 

Miss Pickett sat in enforced silence, full of 
an angry sense of humiliation and dissapoint- 
ment; and her escort, after a sharp struggle 
with his own excited feelings, was only able to 
be politely civil to her during the rest of the 
way home ; addressing now and then a perfunc- 


OUT OF THE MESHES. 


239 


tory remark, which she obliged herself to an- 
swer lest it should be noticed that he had re- 
laxed in his attentions ; and doing his duty in 
the way of wraps, soda-water, ice-cream, and so 
on. 

But it was a dreary journey for both of 
them, and a mutual relief when they parted 
with a very conclusive goodbye at the door of 
Clara’s house. 

“ Pray don’t let me detain you a single in- 
stant, Don Quixote,” she said, with a mocking 
bow, as she ran lightly up the steps, and the 
young man, barely waiting till he saw the serv- 
ant coming to the door, touched his hat form- 
allj r , and hurried away, anxiously impatient, 
though strangely reluctant to be the bearer of 
such news, that no time should be lost in going 
to the rescue. 

It was the most difficult task the youth had 
ever set himself, not alone because of the anx- 
iety and annoyance which he knew it must 
bring to the young lady’s family, but also be- 
cause he felt certain that they would hold him 
in a measure responsible for what had occurred, 
and that he could not vindicate himself with- 
out inculpating his companion — a girl. This 
was of course, out of the question, and there 
was nothing to do but set his face and go for- 
ward, and this he did with much the feeling of 


240 in mothek’s place. 

a ‘ forlorn hope ’ rushing forward to storm a gar- 
rison. 

The brown cottage looked very pleasant and 
home-like, not in the least suggestive of an en- 
emy’s stronghold, as the young man threw open 
the gate and strode up the path. The soft 
hush of the summer evening was all about the 
sweet, shady old place; the yellow gleam of 
lamplight shone through the honeysuckled win- 
dows, and on the piazza were grouped two or 
three girlish figures, in hammocks, or reclining 
in easy chairs. One of these rose and came 
forward as young Carter approached the steps, 
and as he lifted his hat, he recognized that it 
was the oldest daughter, the young mistress of 
the house. 

“ Good evening, Miss Jocelyn, — ” he tried to 
speak with a smile and in his usual easy fashion, 
“Is your father at home? Could I speak with 
him just a moment?” 

“Why certainly, Mr. Carter. Come right 
in, to the study. He has not been well to-day ; 
we couldn’t persuade him to remain in bed, but 
at least we have coaxed him not to sit out in 
the night air.” 

The young man paused irresolute, perplexed. 
“ Not well — not sit out in the night air ? How 
then propose to him to take a two hoars’ jour- 
ney in an open row-boat, night coming on apace, 


OUT OF THE MESHES. 


241 


the mists already gathering over the river; — 
had not he, perhaps, better hurry down to the 
dock, hire a boat and an oarsman, and go him- 
self, without saying anything to the family? 
But no — how absurd ! That would not be pos- 
sible ; they would be wild with anxiety before 
that time ; would send to the Picketts to in- 
quire — what in the world was he to do ? 

Jocelyn noticed his sudden look of discom- 
fiture, and a quick apprehension came into her 
mind. 

“ What is it, Mr. Carter ? ” she asked anx- 
iously. “ By the way, I thought you were to 
be one of the excursionists to-day. Didn’t you 
go ? or has the boat got back ? Where is my 
sister? We have been sitting out here watch- 
ing for her.” The young man hesitated, then 
plunged desperately into the inevitable. 

“ Perhaps, as your father is not well, I had 
better speak to you, Miss Jocelyn,” he said. 
“ There is really not a minute of time to be 
wasted,” and in as few words as possible, he 
scarcely knew how, he made her acquainted 
with the miserable facts. 

She turned so white, she looked so shocked 
and distressed, he feared for an instant that 
she might grow faint, and put out his hand in- 
voluntarily to support her. But she roused 
herself with a resolute effort, and answered 
16 


242 


in mother’s place. 


him in the same low guarded tone in which he 
had spoken. 

“ As you say, there isn’t a minute to be lost. 
My poor little sister ! what must she not have 
been suffering all this time ! But I think, if it 
can possibly be helped, I will not tell my father 
to-night. He would insist upon going, and it 
might give him a serious illness. I will go with 
you, myself ; I have learned to be a capital 
rower ; and no stranger need know. One mo- 
ment till I speak to my little sisters here.” 

Jem and Janet had been looking on in some 
perplexity at this mysterious colloquy; Jem con- 
sumed with curiosity, and trying hard not to 
listen to what was evidently not intended for 
her to hear. She started up eagerly as her sis- 
ter approached, but she was doomed to endure 
her pangs yet awhile longer. Jocelyn only 
said, speaking in a quick, low, decided voice, 

“ There is something I want you to do for 
me, children. Juliet isn’t coming home just 
yet, and Mr. Carter wishes me to go and join 
her for awhile. If father doesn’t ask about us, 
don’t speak of our not being in ; and don’t put 
yourselves in his way so that he would be 
likely to ask. Stay out here as long as you 
like, and then go quietly to bed. I left him on 
the study lounge, deep in a new book, and I 
don’t think he’ll be likely to want anything till 


OUT OF THE MESHES. 


243 


we come in. But I’ll tell Aunt Peggy to listen 
out for him. And to-morrow I’ll tell you why 
I ask all this of you, but don’t keep me now. 
Who will bring me a hat and shawl — two 
shawls? That’s right, run along, Jem. Where’s 
Joe, Janet? At the gymnasium? Oh, well, 
he’ll go straight to bed when he comes home. 
Now, Mr. Carter, I am at your service.” 

And so, to the young fellow’s bewildered ad- 
miration, without fuss, with every sensible cau- 
tion, as quietly, and as practically, as if this 
tall fair girl had been the most business-like of 
men, the whole matter was arranged, and the 
pair were hurrying down the street that led to 
the river, while Jem and Janet stood gazing 
after them, scarcely knowing whether they were 
awake or dreaming, and Jem’s tongue paralyzed 
for once ! 

They hurried along swiftly and silently, 
choosing a narrow side-street rather than the 
main thoroughfare upon which they would be 
likely to meet stray squads of picnickers taking 
their way homeward more leisurely than Car- 
ter had done, and they scarcely spoke as they 
sped breathlessly down the steep stony path 
that led to the old tumble -down wharf. The 
excursion -boat was no longer there ; it had 
steamed on down to a lower dock ; but the Jay- 
bird lay moored in her own little nook, after 


244 


in mother’s place. 


the free and easy Southern fashion, which does 
not trouble itself much about boat-houses and 
padlocked doors. 

It was the work of a moment to loosen the 
moorings, to unfasten the oars : Jocelyn stepped 
in as lightly and firmly as her companion, and 
as they pushed off from the shore took the 
water with as sure and steady a stroke as his ; 
in another minute or two they were out in mid- 
stream, speeding along as the Jaybird had 
never sped before. 

They were still very silent; they needed 
their breath for the sharp work they were do- 
ing, and besides, it seemed no time for words. 
Carter felt that nothing he could say would 
help the matter, and Jocelyn’s heart was full. 

She was feeling more as a mother would 
whose child was in like circumstance, than a 
sister, and she could not trust herself to give 
voice to what was swelling in her breast. She 
only summoned all her strength, all her will- 
power, and her nerve, and bent to her oars like 
a man, her vigorous young arms sending out 
strokes as effective as Carter’s own, her eager 
glance reaching forward to measure the distance 
as they shot on past the retreating banks; 
while the dominating thought in her mind, 
which kept coursing and re -coursing against 
the dark backgrond of her troubled conscious? 


OUT OF THE MESHES. 


245 


ness was, “ How glad, how thankful I am, it 
was put into my heart to persuade father to get 
this boat ! ” 

Her companion respected her silence, and 
only broke in upon it now and then to entreat 
her not to over exert herself, to urge that they 
should relieve each other at the oars, and so 
reserve their strength. But she was too anxious 
and impatient to yield except for a moment 
now and then to ease her straining shoulders, 
and fill her lungs with a long deep breath : ex- 
citement, solicitude, tenderness, all served to 
nerve her arm; she felt quite sure that her 
strength would hold out as long as it was 
needed ; and so the young man presently gave 
over trying to persuade her; they pulled as if 
for life, and the gallant little boat sped on, like 
a winged thing, over the darkling waters, under 
the edge of the overhanging bluffs, to the 
rescue ! 

Suddenly Jocelyn broke out, “ Thank God ! 
there is the moon ! ” as a great golden disk 
lifted itself from behind the wooded crest, 
pouring a flood of mellow radiance on river 
and on shore ; and at the same moment, the 
same outburst of thankfulness sprang from the 
lips of those whom they were coming to seek — 

“ Oh ! there is the moon ! now at least it will 
not be quite dark ! ” 


246 


in mother’s place. 


When Juliet first realized that the boat had 
actually gone, without them, that she had been 
deserted by her faithless friend, that she was 
really left alone, upon that lonely shore, with 
only a young man, a comparative stranger, 
albeit of the same blood, she had felt almost 
paralyzed by the shock. But the compelling 
thought. “ What will father, what will Jocelyn 
think? ” quickly roused her to a sharp con- 
sciousness of all it meant. 

“ What a fool, what a blind, stubborn fool I 
have been ! ” she said to herself with bitter 
self-rebuke, “ to persist in trusting to my own 
judgment, having my own way, and holding on 
to that girl for my friend, even when I knew — 
when I knew ! It all comes from that ; if I 
hadn’t gone with her to-day, if she hadn’t made 
me fairly ashamed to be seen with her, I should 
not have left the other people ; I shouldn’t have 
gone off and spent the afternoon alone with a 
boy — I never did a thing in such bad taste, 
before ! I shouldn’t have let all this come upon 
me. I deserve it all, whatever happens, what- 
ever is said; but it is hard upon the others. 
And I prided myself so upon being just ! ” 

It was not Juliet Jerome’s way to wring her 
hands, to cry, and be hysterical ; but she grew 
so white, she stood looking such a picture of 
chill hopeless misery as the thought of all the 


OUT OF THE MESHES. 


247 


pain, the mortification, that would come to the 
family through her — her, it was almost incredi- 
ble ! — that poor young Pryor was almost beside 
himself with anxiety and distress. 

“Don’t, don’t I beg of you, Miss Juliet,” he 
entreated, “ look so despairing ; feel so dread- 
fully about it ! Or I shall feel like going and 
knocking my stupid head against that oak there ! 
It is all my fault ; it was my business to look 
out; I know you can never forgive me — but if 
you only — there must be some way — ” and then 
with a sudden rush of relief — “ Oh ! why 

your father has a boat, ha,s he not? Why, he 
will come for you, of course, the minute he 
hears — ” 

“ The minute he hears ! ” Oh, but that was 
just the thought that pierced the girl’s heart 
with the keenest pang. He would hear, yes, 
doubtless ; there would be plenty of tongues to 
wag freely, to tell how she had gone off — she, 
his daughter, Juliet, — with that Pickett girl, 
and a couple of young men ; and how she 
hadn’t even thought enough of herself or her 
people to guard against being left behind — 

Oh certainly ; her father would be very sure 
to hear more than the bare fact — and that her 
name should be lightly taken — and be obliged 
to know of it — that indeed, was as iron enter- 
ing her soul. 


248 


in mother’s place. 


The pain and the shame of it were so keen, 
that the proud, reticent girl could not bring 
herself even to speak of it to her companion, 
and she only answered, “ Oh yes, I was going 
to remind you of that. Of course they’ll send 
for us ; but it will be hours before they can get 
here ; late night before we can get back ; and 
my father is not well, I left him in bed.” 

Her voice failed her; her lips trembled, and 
the first tears sprang to her eyes. She turned 
away, in speechless distress, and stood leaning 
against a tree, a very image of remorse and 
woe. 

Douglas Pryor paced back and forth along 
the brow of the cliff for a few moments, ar- 
raigning himself at the bar of his own con- 
science, finding himself guilty, and sentencing 
himself without mercy. He grew so miserable 
under this process that he presently came up 
to his equally wretched companion and broke 
out with almost comical desperation. 

“I say, Miss Juliet, this way madness lies! 
I begin to feel myself such a villain that pretty 
soon I shall be convinced that I am not fit to 
live any longer ; and then — over the cliff I go I 
And if I do, you know, well — I’m afraid it 'll 
make you feel worse instead of better ! — So do 
let’s make the best of it; it isn’t actually a 
gallows business, after all ; and when you tell 


OUT OF THE MESHES. 


249 


your folks just how it was, they’re not going to 
mind it so awfully much as you think. Come 
now; let’s get down below while it’s light 
enough to pick our way down the path : maybe 
we might spy some fisherman’s boat coming 
by ; but at any rate, yours will be along before 
such a very great while, and till then, we’ll 
just have to play Robinson Crusoe and his man 
Friday ! ” 

He offered his hand to the young girl, and 
she suffered him to help her down the steep and 
rocky paths that led to the landing below. It 
did seem a little more cheerful there, with the 
river flowing sparkling by close at hand, than 
up among the deepening shadows of the grove, 
and Juliet, feeling herself far more to blame 
than her companion, had no wish to add to his 
self-reproach, and did her best to repress her 
own anxiety and distress, and to get over the 
long hours of waiting as little drearily as pos- 
sible. 

She could not have had a better comrade in 
such an exigency. Young Pryor was not only 
a well-bred and well-read young fellow, but he 
was possessed of an unfailing fund of good 
spirits which like Mark Tapley’s came out 
strongest when circumstances were hardest. 
He made talk on all manner of subjects, and 
he bustled about on all sorts of errands with a 


250 


in mother’s place. 


view to her comfort. He broke off quantities 
of branches from the trees, the leaves of which 
he stripped off to make a more comfortable 
seat than the rough beams of the dock afforded. 
Over these he spread her shawl, and would 
have added his coat if she would have per- 
mitted it. Then he set himself to gather 
sticks and bits of driftwood such as always 
gather by the water-side, and heaped them up 
in a neat little pile. 

“ That’s for our signal fire when it gets dark ; 
luckily, I have matches in my pocket,” he said. 
“People in distress always light signal fires, 
you know, Miss Juliet. And by the way, did 
you ever read a story called ‘ Island Polma ’ ? I 
declare, I fairly held my breath to see whether 
that passing ship would notice their poor little 
bonfire which the rain put out as fast as they 
lighted it. Never read it? Well then, I am 
going to tell you about it, for it’s the most 
thrilling story of shipwreck I ever read, and there 
was the bravest girl in it, just as brave as — 
W ell, you see, they were sailing from — 

And then he began to tell the tale, and told 
it so well that his auditor could not but be 
beguiled of some of her sad thoughts. Then 
she must tell him a story, he insisted, a long 
one, the whole of some book which she liked, 
and which he had not read. After that he led 


OUT OF THE MESHES. 


251 


the talk once more to his old home up on the 
Virginia farm ; to the fun they had had hunting 
and fishing and riding at tournaments ; to the 
horse he had raised himself from a colt which 
was the finest creature in the whole county ; 
and to the ’possum he had tamed till it followed 
him round like a spaniel. Then he coaxed from 
her the history of various pets of her own and 
her sisters, guinea-pigs, pigeons, white mice, 
and the like : and so, in one way, or the other, 
with frequent long pauses in which all the for- 
lorn state of things would so rush over Juliet’s 
mind that she could neither talk nor listen, nor 
do aught but mourn inwardly over her own 
folly, the hours at length bore their tedious 
length away. The moon came out in a flood 
of glory that paled to insignificance their flick- 
ering fire, and at last, at last, the welcome 
sound, so eagerly waited, so keenly listened for, 
the regular rhythmic splash of oars, was heard, 
the most blissful music that had ever fallen 
upon their ears! They sprang to their feet, 
crying out in their joy, waving over their heads 
brands snatched blazing from the pile, and al- 
most ready in their excitement, to spring into 
the river and swim out to meet the little boat 
that came gallantly on over the silvered tide, 
the two rowers bending to their oars, and ceas- 
ing not in their swift strong strokes till at length 


252 


IN mother’s place. 


the keel was beached upon the pebbled shore, 
and the long agony was over ! 

Then, while young Pryor dashed forward at 
sight of a lady in the boat, to offer his hand to 
help her out, and to pour forth a torrent of ex- 
planations and regrets, Juliet suddenly seemed 
transformed to stone, to a mere statue of grief 
and shame, and stood, her face covered with her 
hands, shrinking away in speechless humiliation, 
as Jocelyn, springing from the boat, hurried 
eagerly forward and threw her arms around 
her. 

“My poor, poor little sister!” was all she 
said ; “how you must have suffered ! ” 

Not one word of her own pain and anxiety, 
not a whisper of reproach or reproof; and all 
the way home her only thought was to quiet 
the wild passion of weeping which would at 
last have its way with the overwrought Juliet; 
to soothe her fears, to comfort her grief, to en- 
velop her with tenderest loving-kindness, and 
save her from all fateful consequences. 

“Mr. Carter thinks that no one on board the 
boat noticed that you were not there,” she took 
courage to whisper, as, the homeward journey 
at last completed, they were walking up the 
path to their own door. “And you need not 
see father at all to-night ; I see his study-lamp 
is out, and there is no light in his bedroom 


OUT OF THE MESHES. 


253 


either. The children seem to have gone to bed 
too, and if you had rather — if you think it 
would be best — perhaps — ” 

She hesitated, and Juliet hastily answered 
her unspoken thought. 

“No, no,” she said with a sort of nervous 
desperation. “ He must know all about it ; I 
couldn’t feel honest if he didn’t. And if other 
people bear, and I don’t see how they can help 
it , why, I shall just have to hear what they 
choose to say, that’s all. I deserve it all; I 
brought it on myself, but at least, I won’t be a 
coward. Only poor father — I don’t know how 
I’ll get my courage up, and he not well.” 

“Shall I speak to him for you, in the morn- 
ing, dear? I will, if you would rather — ” . 

Juliet hesitated: her proud, self-reliant na- 
ture ordinarily would have preferred to make 
its own confessions; but in this case, she could 
not help shrinking. “It is awfully good of you, 
Jocelyn,” she said. “ I know you won’t like it, 
and I don’t deserve it, — ” but a kiss prevented 
her from finishing her sentence, and she turned 
hastily and went into the house and up to her 
room, leaving her sister to make the last good- 
byes and acknowledgments to the two young 
men. 

That her sister should prove to be still her 
old highminded, honorable self, was the only 


254 


in mother’s place. 


redeeming point in the whole unhappy affair to 
Jocelyn’s mind: and she was glad to spare her 
the pain and mortification of telling her own 
story. It would have been harder for Juliet, 
but it was not a pleasant task for herself, and 
she found herself hesitating nervously with her 
hand on the latch of the study door, as she 
went down early to get a word with her father 
before breakfast. She was possessed of a goodly 
portion of womanly tact however, and she man- 
aged to present the affair so lightly, while keep- 
ing strictly to the truth, that her father took it 
with much less seriousness than she had feared, 
the whole thing being safely ended before he 
had even heard of it. 

“ Giddy, thoughtless young people ! ” he said ; 
“they are so apt to think they know it all — 
and what hard lessons it takes to teach them 
that they don’t! That poor child! she must 
have suffered more than a little: it’s a wonder 
she isn’t sick with the worry and the damp ; 
and I think likely she would have been but for 
your promptness and cleverness in doing exactly 
the right thing. I don’t know what we should 
all do without you, daughter: day by day, I 
see more and more how like you are to your 
dear mother.” 

“O father!” Jocelyn felt her little nervous 
tremor giving place to a thrill of tender joy, 


OUT OF THE MESHES. 255 

and she took courage to stoop down and press 
her lips to his bearded cheek. 

“ Then you don't think of saying anything to 
Juliet, poor girl?” 

And her father answered, “No, I think not. 
I feel as if I could safely leave the manage- 
ment of these things to you;” and contented 
himself with giving only a grave, steady glance 
and a meaning shake of the head, when the 
young girl, looking pale and embarrassed, 
came forward to bid him good morning. 

Jocelyn had found a moment also to speak 
to the little girls, to satisfy their curiosity and 
ask them to be quiet ; and from that time forth 
no mention of the unfortunate occurrence was 
permitted to be made in the household; nor, 
strange though it seemed in a small country 
town, where few things happened out of the 
ordinary, and most people knew each other 
more or less familiarly, was ever a comment 
heard from without, or any evidence given that 
the circumstance had been made cognizant to 
any but the parties immediately concerned. 

To their infinite relief, the indirect author of 
all the trouble fulfilled the purpose she had ex- 
pressed of leaving Oakleigh for the rest of the 
season; and the whole affair presently faded 
out of remembrance. 

With all perhaps save Juliet herself: therec- 


256 


m mother’s place. 


ollection of her own self-will and perverseness 
lingered long in her mind; and Jocelyn could 
not but note with thankfulness the softening 
and subduing effect upon her proud and self- 
sufficing nature. There was a welcome abate- 
ment also in the chill aloofness with which her 
younger sister had held herself from her since 
she had been called to take a place of author- 
ity in the household; and Jocelyn quoted to 
herself more than once nowadays the comfort- 
ing old sayings, “There’s a silver lining to 
every cloud,” and “It’s an ill wind that blows 
nobody good.” 

She was sitting one morning in the late sum- 
mer time, at the parlor window, with little 
Jessie leaning against her knee, watching a 
huge spider’s web, which the child had discov- 
ered and brought her to look at. It stretched 
its filmy surface halfway across the open win- 
dow, and was a thing of wonder and of beauty 
in the exquisite fineness of its silky threads, 
and the almost more than human delicacy and 
skill with which they were interwoven. 

“ I s’pose old Mr. Spider thought he’d catch 
lots of flies in that big web ! ” said Jessie, point- 
ing toward it ; and Jocelyn, making a picture in 
her mind of the luckless insects struggling in 
the web, felt a curious sudden thrill of thank- 
fulness at the thought that was subtly suggested 


OUT OF THE MESHES. 257 

by it — how her sister had been rescued from 
the snare of those “evil communications ” 
which “ corrupt good manners.” 

“It was exceedingly hard on her, poor 
thing,” she thought musingly. “ She was very 
brave and plucky about it, and ready to take 
any trouble it might bring her ; but I saw how 
she almost winced every time a visitor came, or 
any one stopped to speak to us on the street, 
for weeks and weeks afterward. That’s one 
thing in that dreadful girl’s favor at least ; she 
had the grace to keep her own counsel. Though 
I suppose she didn't care to publish her own 
share in the matter, either. Well, I’m thank- 
ful she’s gone — Juliet is a changed girl nowa- 
days ; so much softer and less “ offish.” Indeed, 
all the children are as good as they can be now- 
adays, bless their hearts ; and father seems 
more cheerful, and — he seems to be having all 
sorts of a good time, traveling about from one 
beautiful place to another, and getting on capi- 
tally with his cranky old lady. “ Heigho ! ” with 
a little half laugh, half sigh : “ everything really 
seems to be going on so smoothly, I’m half 
afraid it’s ‘ too good to las’ ! ’ ” as Aunt Peggy 
says.” 

“ Why don’t you answer me Dottelyn? ” she 
was just here conscious of Jessie’s demanding 
in rather an injured tone. “ I been askin’ you 

17 


258 


m mother’s place. 


an’ askin’ you, an’ you don’t pay any ’tention 
at all. Shall I brush the old cobweb away, 
and not let the spider get the flies ? ” 

Jocelyn laughed and gave her a little squeeze. 
“Dottelyn didn’t hear you, dear. She was 
away in Dreamland, I guess. Brush the web. 
away ? It’s almost a pity, isn’t it, it’s so pretty. 
But I suppose if any one should happen to call, 
it would look like rather poor house-keeping. 
And by the way, there is some one coming 
through the gate now, J essie ; a gentleman with 
a package in his hand. Who in the world can 
it be?” 


CHAPTER X. 

WHICH SHALL IT BE? 


TI7HY ! it’s Uncle Harry, from Washing- 
^ ton!” Jocelyn exclaimed in the next 
breath, and starting up with a look of pleasure, 
she took her little sister by the hand, and went 
down the lawn to meet him. Now Uncle 
Harry, was no uncle at all, only a cousin, of 
their mother ; but he was a great favorite in 
the Jay family, because as they said, “ he was 
so jolly, and always seemed to bring a breeze 
with him.” They did not see him very often, 
but his rare visits were always bright spots to 
look back to, and held always a pleasant flavor 
of bon-bons, toys, company dinners, outings, 
and good times generally. So there was a 
unanimous outbreak of pleasure at his arrival, 
which took on an added zeal when he said in 
his hearty way, 

“Well, I’ve come to stay five or six days 
with you this time, young folks, for I’ve 
brought you a new nonsense-thing, which I 
think you’ll all enjoy, and which will take me 
that long, I reckon, to show you how to use.” 

( 259 ) 


260 


IN mother’s place. 


“Is it in there?” shyly inquired Jessie, glanc- 
ing round from her perch on his knee to the 
parcel which he had set down upon a table. 

“ Yes, that’s precisely where it is, Missy,” 
Uncle Harry answered, giving her a sudden 
little jump, and then setting her down on the 
floor. “I brought it up myself, and left my 
portmanteau to be sent on afterward from the 
boat; and I took particular pains to arrive on a 
Saturday when I knew you youngsters would 
all be at home. Now, wasn’t that good of 
me?” 

“ Course,” said Jem, “but it wouldn’t be you 
if it wasn’t, you know!” and while a laugh 
arose at her rather mixed English, she added 
coaxingly, “And were you going to open it 
right now, Uncle Harry?” 

“Why Jem!” said the others in a rebuking 
tone, but Uncle Harry only laughed again, and 
said : “ Certainly ; that’s what I brought it for, to 
open it, and no time like the present. Lend us 
a hand here, Joe, with these strings.” 

A few moments of eager expectation followed, 
while the whole group gathered round, watch- 
ing the process, always so slow to young impa- 
tient eyes! of untying the many tight knots 
with which the package was secured ; and then 
when the last thick fold of wrapping paper was 
removed, there was a long stare of perplexity 


WHICH SHALL IT BE? 


261 


as nothing appeared but a box, a simple oblong 
box of black walnut, whose outer aspect gave 
no hint of what it might contain, or what pur- 
pose it might serve. 

Jem, as usual, was the first one to make in- 
quiries. 

“But what is it?” she asked. “What’s it 
full of, Uncle Harry? What’s it meant for?” 

“Can’t you guess, any of you?” asked Uncle 
Harry, looking round gleefully at the group of 
puzzled faces. 

“It isn’t a writing-desk,” ventured Janet, 
doubtfully, with a secret wish in her heart that 
it might have been, and intended for her ! 

“ Nor a work-box,” suggested Jocelyn. 

“Nor a stereoscope,” added Juliet. 

“Hold on! hold on a minute,” cried Joe, 
who had been scrutinizing it keenly with his 
practical boy’s eye: “I’ll bet I know what it is ; 
It’s a photograph-thing, I’ll bet. It’s something 
you can take pictures with your own self. I’ve 
read of ’em, and I’ve seen the picture of one in 
an advertisement ; not like this exactly, but like 
enough to make me pretty sure. Isn’t that it, 
Uncle Harry?” 

And when Uncle Harry laughed, and said, 
“Go up head, Joe,” there was a general cry of 
delight at the idea of something so unusual and 
so interesting in prospect. “Kodaks” and 


262 


IN mother’s place. 


“Hawk-eyes” and the sundry other magical 
contrivances for the taking of “instantaneous 
photographs” were common enough in the 
neighborhood of great cities or show places 
haunted by tourists, but such a thing was a 
novelty as yet in this out-of-the-way country 
town, and the generous giver saw at once that 
he had bestowed all the pleasure he had 
anticipated. 

“I don’t believe there’s another one in Oak- 
leigh,” said Juliet; and Jem begged, “Could 
you show us how it acts right away, Uncle 
Harry, please?” 

But Jocelyn was obliged to absent herself 
for awhile to hold a consultation with Aunt 
Peggy: 

“Why didn’t you bring Cousin Sally with 
you, Uncle Harry,” she asked, pausing as she 
was leaving the room, to ask. “And little 
Nannie, though I don’t suppose she’s very 
little now. You took possession of us so 
with your mysterious box we haven’t had time 
to remember our manners ; but we would have 
loved to have them come. Why didn’t you 
bring them ? ” 

“Well, it would have to be bringing liter- 
ally in Nan’s case,” said Uncle Harry, looking 
grave. “ The poor little monkey had nothing 
better to do than to fall out of a swing — stand- 


WHICH SHALL IT BE? 


263 


in g up and going too high, of course — and 
away went her ankle-bone — broken.” 

“Oh, oh!” went up a cry of surprise and 
pity from the listening group. 

“ Happily it is doing pretty well now, though 
it was a bad fracture, the surgeon said, and the 
poor child suffered a great deal, and still suffers. 
The worst of it is they say shell not be able to 
walk again for a couple of months, or more ; 
and that’s going to be hard on such an active 
child as she is.” 

“ I should think so indeed ! ” sounded a 
sympathizing chorus; “Poor little Nan! ” 

“But we don’t grumble at that; we’re so 
thankful there’s no real danger to be feared. 
Of course, if there had been, I couldn’t have 
left her; and yet — ” he hesitated a little; “I 
had a purpose in that too, more or less connected 
with her comfort. Did you say you must run 
away for awhile, Jocelyn? Now, my dear, if 
you are going to spend your time in the kitchen, 
or put yourself out at all for me, I shall just 
pack up my traps and face right about for 
home again ! ” 

“ No, no, you mustn’t pack up this again!” 
cried Jessie, putting her hand hastily on the 
strange box which was still a matter of pleasing 
mystery to her ; and then they all laughed, and 
Uncle Harry began to take its various belong- 


264 in mother’s place. 

ings apart, and explain “ how it worked ” to the 
young people who were eagerly interested to 
know just how it was to be handled, and if 
they could really learn to take pictures with it 
themselves, “just like photographers.” 

Uncle Harry gave them all the assurances 
they wanted, but he would not consent to at- 
tempt to verify them until luncheon was over, 
and the young house-mistress was at leisure to 
join the party ; then they gathered out on the 
lawn, full of eagerness, mixed, it must be con- 
fessed, with some incredulity, and prepared to 
witness, and to assist, so far as permitted, at 
the wonderful process. 

There Mr. Jerome found them, busy, excited 
and happy, when he returned from his office, 
early, as usual on a Saturday afternoon. He 
looked a little bewildered at first as he came up 
the path, but beamed with pleasure as soon as 
he got near enough to recognize his guest. 

“ O ! old fellow, how d’ye ? ” he said, clap- 
ping him affectionately on the shoulder. 
“ Mighty glad to see you down our way again. 
Dropped down from the skies, as usual, without 
a note of warning. How did you leave the 
folks? And what’s going on here ? Set up for 
a traveling sun-artist, hey ? - Always up to 
something or other, aren’t you ; same old 
Harry.” 


WHICH SHALL IT BE? 


265 


“ O ! but father,” burst in Jem, unable to 
contain herself , 44 this is such a nice something ! 
He’s taken everything, all of us children, and 
Aunt Peggy and Mahaly, and the barn and the 
horse-chestnut and the front and the back and 

the side of the house 44 And would have 

taken your tongue, only it was too long for his 
plates,” interposed Joe impatiently, but Jem 
could not be stopped until she had finished. 
44 And he says they’re all real pictures just like 
what they take down at the gallery, only 
they’ve got to be shut up in a dark room first, 
and, and, enveloped , or something or other!” 

There was a shout of laughter at this, but 
Joe growled, 44 If you could only be shut up in 
a dark room and enveloped with silence for 
awhile, you might develop into less of a mag- 
pie by-and-by ! ” 

44 Oh well, developed then ! ” persisted Jem, 
shrugging her shoulders, and returning un- 
daunted to the front. 44 So father, you must 
just sit down now, right away, and be taken 
too, mustn’t he, Uncle Harry?” 

44 Oh, why certainly, — and a new group be- 
gan immediately to be arranged, with a great deal 
of laughing discussion over the various poses ; 
and the summons to dinner found the whole 
party still on the grass, talking over, and ex- 
perimenting with the new 44 fad.” 


266 


in mother’s place. 


Uncle Harry had to see to putting his “nega- 
tives ” in a place of safety before going into 
the dining-room ; and he begged of J ocely n the 
use of some small unoccupied apartment in 
which he might perform the finishing processes. 
A little empty room up on the third floor was 
placed at his disposal; and thither, when the 
pleasant evening was over, he betook himself 
with his various paraphernalia, bottles of chemi- 
cals, basins of water, and so on, and prepared 
to put the plates through the operation known 
as developing, assisted only by Joe, to the great 
discomfiture of his sister Jem. 

Her bump of curiosity was abnormally de- 
veloped, we remember, and she was exceedingly 
anxious to see the whole performance to its 
very end. There was something tantalizingly 
mysterious about a “dark room,” a “ red light,” 
and so on ; Joe’s grin of triumph when Uncle 
Harry designated only him as his companion, 
saying that this was emphatically one of the 
cases where “ too many cooks spoiled the 
broth,” was an added aggravation;, and alto- 
gether, J em allowed herself to get wrought up 
into such a state of excitability that she could 
not go to sleep. 

For the first time in her small life, the fool- 
ish youngster found herself persistently wake- 
ful ; and she tossed and tumbled about so much 


WHICH SHALL IT BE? 


267 


that Janet protested she might as well be in 
bed with a jumping-jack. She however, pres- 
ently fell asleep, and as soon as Jem felt sure she 
was quite “sound,” she slipped softly out of 
bed, and stole noiselessly out of the open door 
into the passage. Peering eagerly down its 
shadowy length she spied the gleam of red 
light, shining out beneath the door, and the 
sense of mystery increased, and whetted her 
curiosity to an absurd extent. She stood 
shrinking against the wall in her little night- 
gown, watching, listening, and longing to be 
within the forbidden chamber, till suddenly, 
startled by some sound within, she scurried 
back to her bed, where she at last dropped 
asleep. But her unsatisfied desire haunted her 
dreams, and was the first thing that presented 
itself to her consciousness when she woke in 
the early morning ; and too restless to think of 
trying to sleep again, she made up her mind to 
get up, dress, and be on hand the first one 
when Uncle Harry came down, to ask him to 
let her see how he finished the pictures, before 
breakfast. 

Janet was still slumbering deeply; there was 
no sound of any one astir in the house, and 
suddenly, as Jem dipped her little flushed 
face into the washbasin, some one seemed to 
whisper in her ear : 


268 


IN mother’s place. 


“Why not go and see if you can’t get in? 
They wouldn’t think of fastening the door, and 
you have as much right to know it all as Joe. 
You can just slip in and take a peep ; nobody 
will be any the wiser, and what earthly harm 
can it do ? ” 

“None at all,” Jem persuaded herself to be- 
lieve, and making no effort to resist the tempt- 
er’s suggestion, she put on her frock, and 
stole out once more into the dim and empty 
hall. She paused outside her door to listen, 
but there was no sound audible save the sleepy 
twitter of a bird, and the long regular breath- 
ing of the peaceful slumberers in the other 
apartments. All unseen and unheard of any hu- 
man creature, naughty Jem crept along the hall 
to the little room at its end, and, scarcely daring 
to draw breath, cautiously turned the latch of 
the door. It was not fastened in any other way, 
and she found herself without any difficulty 
admitted to the charmed precincts. 

Standing there in her bare feet, peering eagerly 
around, there did not seem to be anything very 
mysterious, or even interesting in sight. The 
walnut box, a few pieces of what looked like 
dirty paper soaking in a basin, two or three 
phials filled with what looked like medicine, 
that was all. She picked these up absently, 
one after the other, and pulling out the corks, 


WHICH SHALL IT BE? 


269 


put her nose to the contents. They did not 
have a very agreeable smell, any of them, and 
after another scrutinizing glance which failed 
to discover anything to satisfy curiosity, she 
said to herself, 

“Pooh! there was nothing worth coming 
for ! They didn’t make any pictures after all ! ” 

And letting herself out as quietly as she had 
entered, she made her way noiselessly back to 
her room, and prepared to finish her toilet, and 
be the first one down-stairs to greet Uncle 
Harry. 

She had actually forgotten it was Sunday 
morning, until her father’s grave glance as she 
broke out eagerly the instant the gentlemen 
appeared with some question about the pictures, 
recalled her to herself. Uncle Harry saw her 
little abashed look and patted her kindly on 
the shoulder. 

“I’m afraid they’re not successful, these first 
attempts of ours,” he said in a little aside ; “ we 
shall try again to-morrow, and you shall see it 
all.” 

And with this she was obliged to be content, 
for the others came trooping down now, and 
prayers, and breakfast followed; and then it 
was time to get ready for Sunday-school. 

Now Janet was not feeling very well this 
morning. One of the nervous headaches to 


270 


IN mother’s place. 


which she had been subject from a little child, 
and which Joe declared were the consequence 
of having such a wonderful brain, had laid its 
hand upon her: she looked pale, languid, and 
heavy-eyed, and could eat nothing. Jocelyn 
decided it was best for her not to go out in the 
sun, but stay quietly at home, and keep in a 
cool shaded room, until the pain had worn it- 
self away. The poor child was fain to take 
her advice, and after the others had departed, 
she betook herself to the parlor, where the 
blinds were closed, and where there was a 
broad low lounge, with a big soft pillow which 
was especially comforting to an aching head. 
There she lay down, and as she had promised 
Jocelyn not to strain her eyes with reading, and 
had not got to sleep quite so early as usual the 
night before, she presently found herself grow- 
ing drowsy, and dropped off into a gentle doze. 

From this she gradually awakened to a con- 
sciousness of voices near the window beneath 
which she was lying, and she listened in a 
dreamy, half-comprehending way to what they 
were saying. 

“ The poor little thing has had a pretty hard 
time of it already,” were the first words that 
vaguely reached her drowsy ear. “ And she is 
going to find it awfully tedious, shut up in one 
room, away from all her playmates and her 


WHICH SHALL IT BE? 


271 


pleasures, for weeks to come. I felt so sorry 
for her the other day the notion suddenly pop- 
ped into my head to run right down here and 
try and borrow one of your youngsters to come 
up to town and keep her company. You’re a 
lucky fellow to have so many daughters, and 
such a nice lot of girls too. I declare I 
shouldn’t know which one to ask. It would 
have to be one of the little ones, I suppose; my 
chick is only eleven or thereabouts; and if you 
will really be so good as to spare me one for a 
few weeks — of course we shouldn’t keep the 
poor child a prisoner in Nan’s room all the time, 
we should do all we could to give her an enjoy- 
able visit — why, I should be exceedingly grate- 
ful, and so would Nan and her mother. And I 
should have to ask you to choose for me be- 
tween that cunning little curly-headed magpie, 
who seems to be so full of life and spirits, and 
the older one, with the big thoughtful eyes, and 
the pretty quiet ways. I should be glad of 
either, whichever it suited best all round to go.” 

Before Uncle Harry had reached this point, 
— of course she knew his voice ! — Janet found 
herself very wide awake indeed. What! a 
visit to Washington — to a beautiful home, 
where there was everything that wealth could 
devise to make a visit delightful, to stay with 
that nice little Nan, who had made them all so 


272 


in mother's place. 


fond of her on the one occasion of her visiting 
them in Oakleigh two summers ago — a chance, 
a possibility of such a blissful happening for 
her — Janet could scarcely believe her own ears. 
Where there are five girls in a family opportu- 
nities of that kind do not come very frequently 
to any one of them in particular. Such trips 
cost money, and vacations came in the summer 
when city people were not apt to be at home ; 
and Janet had never before seen any near pros- 
pect of any such good fortune coming to her. 
Why even Juliet had never been to Washington, 
she remembered. She recollected her mother 
going one winter and taking with her Jessie who 
was too young to be left behind. Jocelyn had 
gone once too with her father, and had brought 
back enchanting stories of the beauty of 
the city and all the interesting things there 
were to see; the great white marble Capitol, 
the picture of which was in the geographies — 
only think, she had stood on top of its dome, 
away high up in the air, so high that the people 
in the street below looked like dwarfs! And 
the monument, whose great white shaft seemed 
almost to pierce the clouds; the President’s 
house, the beautiful little parks, like blossoming 
gardens, all over the city; then the journey 
itself, in a steamboat, to sleep in one of those 
cute little staterooms, and have supper at a big 


WHICH SHALL IT BE? 


273 


table, full of travelers like herself; to escape 
school for another month, have a new dress, and 
nothing to do but sit and talk with Nan. read 
the delightful story-books of which she always 
had such quantities, go out to drive with her 
mother, and be taken to see the sights by 
Uncle Harry, who always remembered little 
girls’ weakness for ice-cream and soda-water — 
oh, it was like a fairy dream, and Janet was 
tempted to pinch herself to see if she really 
were awake, and those were actual people, Uncle 
Harry and her father, talking outside the 
window. 

For now it was her father speaking in his 
grave, deliberate way, and forgetting in her ex- 
citement that she had no right to listen to what 
was certainly not intended for her to hear, she 
raised herself upon her elbow and strained her 
ear to catch every word as it fell. 

“I really hardly know what to say, Harry. 
I always left the settling of such matters to 
their mother, and now I sometimes find myself 
at sea. Of course I shall be only glad, any and 
all of us w’ould be, to do anything in our power 
•to help your little girl through the tedium of 
convalescence, and I’ve no doubt their sister 
could get one of them ready to go back with 
you; but which one, that I would rather not 
take it upon me to decide. Wouldn’t the best 
18 


274 


IN mother’s place. 


plan be for you to choose for yourself; take 
note of them while you stay, observe their dif- 
ferent dispositions and ways, and make up your 
own mind which pne would best serve the pur- 
pose in view? Of course I know you would 
make it pleasant for either of them, but don’t 
you think that is the best way?” 

“Yes I do; I think it’s a good scheme, and 
I'm awfully obliged to you, old fellow, for being 
willing to spare one of them.” Janet heard 
her uncle answer in his hearty way ; and then 
her father said, “Well, we’ll broach the sub- 
ject to Jocelyn after church, but not say any- 
thing to the children perhaps, till you have 
made your decision. And by the way, there is 
the bell beginning to sound: you are coming 
with me, I take it?” 

“Oh, certainly;” and then thej r moved off 
together, and Janet sank back upon her pillow, 
her hands clasped, her cheeks glowing, her eyes 
wide with excitement. 

What a prospect to open up all of a sudden 
in her quiet uneventful life! And surely she 
had the best chance of being chosen. Uncle 
Harry could not possibly think that noisy 
harum-scarum little Jem would make as good a 
companion for a sick child as she would ; he 
had spoken to her father of her “pretty, quiet 
ways,” already ; and she would be careful that 


WHICH SHALL IT BE? 


275 


he should not find them otherwise. She would 
take pains too to be on hand to wait upon him, 
and not give Jocelyn cause to speak to her 
where he perhaps might hear it, about sitting 
round, buried in a book, when others were busy. 
Oh, she would be very careful ! How lucky it 
was that she should happen to know about it 
beforehand ! 

And then, as suddenly, as the lightning 
leaps forth from the thunder cloud and pierces 
the darkness with its fiery gleam, so suddenly, 
so swiftly, something seemed to flash into 
Janet’s soul and reveal to her in its true light 
the unworthy purpose that was creeping into 
it. It was the sword of the Spirit, which 
pierces asunder; and the child started up as 
though its flaming blade had in very deed 
flashed before her eyes. “ What ! ” she asked 
herself, while the hot blood surged to her 
cheek ; “ was that her own self, her mother’s 
‘good little Janet,’ planning to take a mean ad- 
vantage of her own sister, good-natured, warm- 
hearted little Jem ? And what right had she 
to know, anyhow? Was it possible that she 
was a listener, an eaves-dropper, seeking to find 
out things which were not meant for her to 
know? ” 

But no ; she could not accuse herself of that ; 
she was sure she had not meant to listen ; she 


276 


in mother’s place. 


had been so drowsy, only half conscious of what 
was being said until it was said — she must go 
at once and tell her father and Uncle Harry 
how she had unintentionally overheard them ! 
— But no — she could not do that now ; there 
was the click of the gate, they were already on 
their way to church, she must wait till they 
came back. And in the mean time, would she 
be mean and selfish toward Jem? No indeed! 
She did not see how she could even have 
such a thought for an instant ! She could not 
tell her ; no, she had no right to do that, 
and put her on her good behavior ; but she 
would stay with her as much as she could 
while Uncle Harry was here, and watch out 
for her, and do whatever might be in her 
power to keep her from making an unfavorable 
impression. And for her own part, why she 
would not take advantage of the knowledge 
she had gained accidentally ; she would be 
just her own every-day self ; she would play 
fair , whatever happened — and then, why then, 
if Uncle Harry wanted her, she would be 
awfully glad to go ; and if he thought Jem 
would suit best, why then, she’d be glad for 
Jem too ! 

And having settled the matter thus in her 
own honorable little soul, she lay down again 
and tried not to think any more about it ; for 


WHICH SHALL IT BE? 


277 


all this excitement was not making the pain in 
her head any less. 

She started up once more however, when she 
heard them all coming home from church. “ I 
must go and speak to them right now,” she said 
to herself, “while the girls are up-stairs, taking 
off their things.” 

But the sudden movement and the nervous 
dread of what she had to do sent such a fresh 
pang quivering through her throbbing temples 
that she sank down on the pillow again with a 
moan ; and Jocelyn, looking in to see how she 
was getting on, insisted upon taking her up-stairs 
at once, undressing her, and putting her to bed 
— “the only place where you can be really 
comfortable, poor little girl ! ” 

Thus the opportunity passed for the present. 
Dinner came, and then the gentlemen went off 
for a long stroll by the river bank; Jocelyn, 
after coaxing Janet to drink a cup of tea, took 
Jessie out on the piazza to keep her quiet; Joe 
and Juliet each took possession of a hammock 
on the lawn with their library books, and Jem 
carried her book into the parlor, and stretched 
herself out on the same wide sofa where Janet 
had been lying during the morning. 

Ordinarily, not even Sunday afternoon found 
restless little Jem content to remain quiet in 
any one place very long; but she had slept 


278 in mother’s place. 

less than usual the night before ; her book 
proved rather dull and “ grown-uppy ” for her 
childish taste ; she found herself dropping into 
little dozes over it, and waking up again with a 
start ; and presently, “ or ever she was aware,” 
she dropped off and did not wake up, but went 
journeying peacefully to the “ land of Nod.” 

How long she slept she did not know, but 
when she was roused by what seemed to be 
Joe’s voice a long way off, calling her name, 
the room was all in dusk, and she did not know 
at first whether it was evening, or the middle 
of the night. She sprang to her feet, and tried 
to rub the sleep out of her eyes, and then the 
voice seemed to come nearer, and she made out 
that it was really Joe, and he was calling in no 
mild tones 

“ Jem, where are you ? Here we are, almost 
through supper ! ” and Jocelyn wants you to 
come along. 

“ Almost through supper ! ” Jem gave a hasty 
pat, first one side, then the other, to her ruffled 
hair ; rubbed her eyes hard again, gave her short 
skirts a little shake, and saying to herself, 
“There, I guess I’ll do,” hurried out of the 
parlor and through the dimly-lighted hall to 
the dining-room. As she opened the door, the 
sudden dazzle of the lamplight upon the white 
table cloth set out with glittering cbii^a and 


WHICH SHALL IT BE? 


279 


silver, made her half-sliut her eyes hastily 
again, and she stood there blinking for a mo- 
ment till a sudden loud exclamation from Joe 
made her open them wide enough. 

“ Look at her nose ! ” he cried, with a shout 
of laughter. “ What have you been doing to 
it, Jem? ” It’s as black and shiny as a piece of 
coal. Look at it, everybody ! She’s been stick- 
ing it into something, I bet. Did you take the 
cork out of the shoe polish with your teeth, 
youngster? ” 

“No, I haven’t! I haven’t touched a bit of 
shoe-polish to-day ! ” cried Jem in reply, puz- 
zled and excited at seeing the strange look with 
which every one was regarding her. “What 
are you all staring at me that way for ? What's 
the matter with my nose? I don’t feel any- 
thing — ” and she broke away from Joe who 
had caught hold of her arm, and rushed to ex- 
amine it for herself in the old-fashioned mirror 
above the mantle-shelf. 

Sure enough, there it was, just as Joe had 
said, the tip of her little upturned saucy nose 
black and shiny as a piece of coal; and Jem, 
frightened and amazed, turned round with a 
cry of consternation : 

“What is it, father? What is it, Jocelyn? 
What is the matter with me — am I poisoned — 
I don’t like it — I d-clon’t know, — and you’re 


280 


in mother’s place. 


all a-laughing — ” And she was about to burst 
into a fit of crying, when Joe broke in again 
above the puzzled exclamation of the others — 

“ Poisoned ? Nonsense, you great baby, you ! 
You’d better try and think what mischief you’ve 
been up to. I bet anything it’s just as I said; 
you’ve been poking that little nose of yours into 
something that didn’t concern it. Come now, 
aha!” as Jem’s face all of a sudden, at a cer- 
tain recollection, became dyed with crimson; 
“Aha! didn’t I say so?” and a sudden light 
dawning upon his mind ; “ I bet I know what 

it is too, you little meddlesome witch, you. 
You’ve been into that little room up-stairs; 
you’ve been fussing with Uncle Harry’s photo- 
graphic things; you’ve been smelling at his 
chemicals, and got something on your nose, — 
that’s what’s the matter. A -ah ! you little Paul 
Pry, you ! ” 

“Joe, Joe!” interposed his father in an 
authoritative tone, “ don’t speak to your sister 
in that way; ” and Jocelyn gave him a reproach- 
ful look and said in an aside, “ I wouldn’t 
have thought you were so hard-hearted, Joe ! 
Come here, Jem,” drawing the little girl, now 
sobbing passionately, close to her side, and put- 
ting a protecting arm around her. “ Come, get 
over crying as soon as you can, and tell right 
out what you have been doing. That’s the 


WHICH SHALL IT BE? 281 

only way to make amends for a fault, own up 
to it and be sorry for it.” 

44 Yes,” said her father, speaking more sternly 
than was his wont; 44 Speak out, Jemima, and 
let us know what all this means. Have you 
been meddling again with what was none of 
your business? I was in hopes you had got 
over that unpleasant habit of yours.” 

44 Oh, oh, oh,” sobbed poor Jem in a tumult 
of shame and distress. 44 1 — I — just wanted to 
see if the p-pictures had truly come; and I 
couldn’t see any — and, and, I just sm-smelled 
at the bottles a little. I d- didn’t think it was 
any harm, and I’m so, so sorry, Uncle Harry ! 
Do, do you think my nose will st-stay black all 
the time, please sir ? ” 

Uncle Harry could not possibly help bursting 
out laughing. 

44 Why no, you poor little monkey,” he 
hastened to re-assure the distressed little creat- 
ure. 

“You have evidently got hold of my nitrate 
of silver, and nitrate of silver has a bad habit 
of blackening everything it touches. But you 
needn’t be a bit alarmed for your nose; I’ve 
had it on my fingers many a time, and it always 
comes off again. Takes two or three days 
though, to wear off — washing doesn’t do any 
good, little sister,” as Jessie, her small face full 


282 


in mother’s place. 


of pitying concern, dipped the corner of her 
bib into her glass of water, and stooping down 
from her high chair, tried to apply it to the dis- 
colored member. 

“ Oho ! ” broke in Joe, with a half- suppressed 
guffaw. “ Got to go round two or three days 
with a pug like that, has she ? Serves her 
right though — Polly Pry ! ” 

Whereupon his father invited him unequivo- 
cally to leave the room at once. 

“ As for you, Jem,” he said, turning sternly 
toward the still sobbing culprit ; but Uncle 
Harry checked him with a hand laid upon his 
arm. 

“ Don't sa}' anything more about it, please,” 
he begged. “The poor little child has paid 
dearly enough for what after all, was nothing 
so dreadful. Let her run away to bed. I sup- 
pose,” he added, as Jocelyn availed herself of 
the suggestion to lead the weeping child away, 
“ I suppose old fellow, we all of us have some 
bump or other that is too big for our own good, 
and curiosity is not the worst of them by any 
means. Heredity, you know. Who knows but 
there may be an old bewigged ancestor away 
back in the Jerome family who was possessed 
of an inordinate desire to know everything 
about everything? The sins of the fathers, 
you know — ” 


WHICH SHALL IT BE? 


283 


“ Yes, yes, I know,” rejoined Jem’s father, 
too deeply disturbed to be able to take the 
matter in a bantering way ; u I try to make all 
due allowances with the children; I know par- 
ents have their shortcomings also ; but it would 
be a pretty state of affairs in this world if we 
bolstered ourselves up with that notion of 
heredity and made no effort to correct our 
faults or build up our own character. That 
poor youngster has been beset by an inordinate 
curiosity all her days, but one would think she 
has had lessons enough to have cured her before 
now. Well — she will be getting the hardest 
one of all, perhaps, this time. Of course this 
business puts out of the question all thoughts 
of her being the one to go home with you. I 
shouldn’t think of trusting her away from 
home, in another person’s family. No one 
knows what she might be up to ; I shouldn’t 
know a moment’s peace.” 

“ Why — is that so — do you feel that way ? ” 
said Uncle Harry, doubtfully. “ And I like 
the little thing too, — she is so, so natural. 
Well! I don’t know but the quiet one after 
all, is the best choice for a convalescent’s 
room : but don’t rub it into poor little Jem — 
don’t let her know that she has missed any- 
thing, eh ? ” 

But Mr. Jerome would not give him any 


284 


IN mother’s place. 


promise to this effect, and the unfortunate sub- 
ject was dropped. 

Up-stairs however, in the children’s room, it 
was still in violent agitation, Jem had broken 
away from Jocelyn at her door, and rushing up 
to her own room in a whirlwind of shame and 
mortification, had dashed to the basin and 
plunged the offending feature of her poor little 
tear-swollen face into the water, subjecting it 
afterward to a most vigorous discipline with 
soap and towel. All in vain, however ; the lit- 
tle uptilted tip remained persistently black, and 
another passionate fit of crying followed. When 
Janet, setting up in her bed, succeeded at last 
in discovering what was the trouble, she was 
filled with consternation, and her involuntary 
outcry did not improve matters. 

“ O Jem, Jem ! ” she broke out pitifully. 
“ Now you have done it for yourself — now you 
have spoiled all your chances ! Oh dear ! isn’t 
it too bad ! ” 

“ Done what for myself ? Spoiled what 
chances?” demanded Jem, but Janet remem- 
bered herself and gave only an evasive answer. 

“ Oh, of having Uncle Harry think well of 
you, of course ; ” and she lay awake, thinking 
and planning, long after the little curly-headed 
figure beside her had cried itself to sleep. 

The next morning, as she sat in a corner of 


WHICH SHALL IT BE? 


285 


the piazza with a book, not reading, but pon- 
dering how she could contrive to get a word 
with Uncle Harry alone, the gentleman himself 
came around the side of the house, returning 
from a walk to the office with his host, and 
stopping at sight of her, leaned over the 
railing and began speaking to her on the very 
subject which she wished yet dreaded to intro- 
duce. 

“Well, Mousie,” he said, pulling one of her 
long braids of hair ; “ here you are just as I 
came looking for you. Do you know I’ve got 
a great favor to ask of you. My little midge 
— I told you about her unlucky little foot — well, 
she is going to have a dull time of it while it is 
getting well, and she sent me off down here ex- 
pressly to bring one of you cousins back with 
me to keep her from being bored to death. 
Now you seem to me just the dear, quiet little 
woman to make the sweetest sort of a compan- 
ion to a little lame girl, who’s sure to be cross 
— and if you would — we shouldn’t keep you a 
prisoner all the time — we should try to make 
things pleasant for you. Well, I should be 
very much obliged indeed, and so would Nan 
and her mother. Now how does the idea strike 
you? Think you’d like a trip to Washington 
with Uncle Harry — eh?” 

Janet’s heart gave a leap within her : would 


286 


in mother’s place. 


she like it, indeed? But she made a little silent 
prayer within herself, and resolutely put aside 
all thought of self. She got up and came and 
stood in front of Uncle Harry, all in a glow 
and a tremble, scarcely able to speak for ti- 
midity, yet so sincerely in earnest : 

u Oh, tEfcke Jem, please, Uncle Harry ! ” she 
begged. “She’d be a great deal better com- 
pany for Nan than I, she’s so full of life and 
fun, and she’s the best-hearted little thing ! 
You mustn’t mind about what she did }^ester- 
day, Uncle Harry. She don’t do that sort of 
thing very often nowadays, and I’m sure it'll 
be a long time before she forgets again ! ” 

“Well — but don’t you think you’d like it 
yourself, then ? ” asked Uncle Harry, in some 
surprise. 

“ Like it ? Why, who could help liking it ? 
It would be just lovely, of course, but I’d 
rather Jem had it. I don’t feel as if I deserved 
it anyhow,” and here the sweet, earnest Lice 
was covered with a deep blush. “ I knew about 
it already, Uncle Harry, I heard you asking 
father about it yesterday morning. You’d been 
walking round the yard, and you stopped right 
under the window where I was lying almost 
asleep. I didn’t mean to listen ; it seemed as if 
I heard the voices in a dream, and before I fairly 
knew, you had told what you wanted. And I 


WHICH SHALL IT BE? 


287 


was awful glad for a minute that I knew before 
Jem did, because I wanted to go so much, and 
I was the oldest! But the next minute I knew 
I couldn’t be so mean — that I wanted Jem to 
have just as fair a chance as myself; and I 
wanted to go straight and tell you. But my 
head was so bad, that Jocelyn made me go to 
bed. And then poor little Jem got into such 
trouble; I’m so sorry for her ! And I came out 
here to see you when you came back, and to 
beg you to take her. She’ll be good — I’m sure 
of that— and you will, won't you, Uncle 
Harry ? ” 

But Uncle Harry put his two hands on each 
side of the sweet glowing face, and bent down 
and kissed it. 

“ You are a dear, honorable, unselfish little 
girl!” he said. “And just the kind of friend 
I would choose for my daughter if I had any 
longer any choice in the matter. But I have 
not, my dear: your father was so disturbed at 
poor little Jem’s performance yesterday that he 
said quite decidedly all thought of her going 
must be given up — he could not trust her away 
from home. So though we are sorry for her, 
don’t let it spoil our own pleasure, since we 
can’t help her. Her turn shall come another 
time, when she is a little older and wiser. But 
now we must go at once to the mother- sister, 


288 


in mother’s place. 


and tell her we are going to steal one of her brood 
away. For, of course, there’ll be something to 
be attended to, and now that my commission 
has settled itself, I must get back home to my 
invalid just as quick as I can. Come ! ” 

And Janet followed him slowly into the 
house. She could not help but be glad she was 
going, but she did wish Jem was going too ! 


CHAPTER XI. 


HELP IN TIME OF NEED. 

milERE was a great flutter in the Jaybirds* 
Nest when it was announced that one of 
the fledglings was about to try her wings under 
new and strange skies. Juliet, whose secret 
desire to know something of the life of cities 
had been fed by the glittering representations 
of her quondam friend, Clara Pickett, and who 
felt it more her right as the elder, had to strug- 
gle hard with herself before she could put any 
warmth in her congratulations to Janet; and 
Jem received the news with an outburst of in- 
dignation. 

“ There ! I knew there was something,” she 
cried, turning upon her luckier sister with 
sparkling eyes. “That was what you meant 
then, was it, when you said I had done for my- 
self, and had lost my chances! What chance 
did I have ? Did Uncle Harry mean to take 
me too ? And did he give it up for just such a 
little thing as this?” giving her nose a vicious 
little dab. “ Because if he did, I think it’s just 

the meanest ” 

19 


( 289 ) 


290 


in mother’s place. 


“ Hush Jem ! ” interposed Jocelyn with au- 
thority. “ You must not speak in that way of 
Uncle Harry, and besides, it is not his doing at 
all. It was father who said at once that he 
could not think of letting you go; he could not 
trust you in other people’s houses. I’m awfully 
sorry, Jem,” she added pityingly, as she saw 
the child’s look fall ; “ but oh, why will you 
keep on doing such things ? ” 

Jem’s funny little black-nosed face was work- 
ing strangely: she was saying to herself with a 
sense of shame and pain she had never known 
before, “ Father afraid to trust me in other 
people’s houses — just as if I were a thief! ” and 
the thought was very hard to bear. “Well! 
he shall soon give over thinking that of me,” 
she decided promptly in her rapid little mind. 
“I never, never, never will again — and may the 
Lord help me ! ” 

With the little inward prayer the tears started 
to the childish blue eyes ; Jocelyn and Janet 
exchanged pitiful glances, and Janet came up 
to her and said pleadingly, 

“Don’t feel so badly about it, please Jem; 
you make me feel as if it was mean in me to 
go. Your turn will come by and by ; Uncle 
Harry said so.” 

But sturdy little Jem was not going to be 
miserable. 


HELP IN TIME OF NEED. 


291 


“ Oh, I don’t mind it so much after all,” she 
said. “I’m sure I’m glad you’re going, since 
you think you’ll enjoy it so much, Janet. As 
for me, I have good enough times right here, at 
home and at school; and I’m not sure I should 
fancy being shut up so much in a sick room en- 
tertaining Miss Nan. I guess she’s pretty 
spoiled anyhow; I thought she was tol’erble 
‘primmy and mincy ’ that time she was down 
here.” 

Janet felt very much relieved. “Well no, I 
guess she isn’t so very ‘primpy and mincy,’ 
whatever you mean by that, Jem,” she said, 
laughing. “ I guess she’s only quiet, like my- 
self: I won’t mind staying in with her, but 
maybe you will have a better time home, just 
as you say. I’m so glad you don’t really mind !” 

“There’s Uncle Harry calling us now!” was 
Jem’s rather irrelevant reply. “ He’s going to 
take more pictures. Well, I shall chalk my 
nose, and then it won’t show. Come along 
— aren’t the rest of you coming?” 

But Jocelyn had to stay up-stairs, and look 
over Janet’s wardrobe, and see what was needed 
to be done before starting the little woman off 
on a long visit. There were no new things to 
be undertaken; there was no time for that, and 
besides, Uncle Harry declared it was not nec- 
essary at all. 


292 


IN mother’s place. 


“You know poor little Nan can’t use any new 
toggery this fall,” he said ; “and I don’t know 
how her mother could get along without a live 
doll to dress. There are plenty of shops where 
every thing can be bought, and a seamstress is at 
the house pretty much all the time besides ; and 
I insist upon it, Jocelyn, that you shan’t be 
bothered with any preparations. It is quite 
enough for you to spare me one of your brood, 
— I’ll see to the feathers ! ” 

There were a good many stitches, notwith- 
standing, to be taken here and there, some fine 
laundering to be done, and considerable looking 
around and gathering together, before the pack- 
ing began — that most important epoch in one’s 
life when one’s trunk is packed for the first 
time all for one’s own self! Juliet had been 
able to put aside the thought of her own wishes 
sufficiently to lend a helping hand with a good 
grace. She and Jocelyn sewed comfortably to- 
gether in “ mother’s room ” over the new facings 
and braids, and when the last goodbyes had 
been said, the last handkerchiefs waved, and 
they had gone back into the house, they found 
themselves missing the shy, silent, gentle little 
girl more than they would have thought likely. 

Juliet, of course, had her school to go back 
to ; and the coming and going in company with 
her mates, the small but interesting events of 


HELP IN TIME OF NEED. 


293 


the class-room, her studies, her music, all 
served to keep her busy and contented. In the 
afternoons and evenings, there were always 
some of her young friends dropping in; Doug- 
las Pryor had taken pains to bring forward the 
fact of his relationship to establish a sort of at- 
homeness in the house, and Juliet, and even 
Joe and Jem were growing into the habit of 
giving him the old place of familiar friend 
which had formally been held by “our Dick.” 

Only Jocelyn’s heart was faithful to the ab- 
sent one who had vanished so suddenly out of 
their lives ; and her thoughts went constantly 
forth over land and sea to the wanderer during 
all these long months of parting and distance. 
But thoughts, however tender, and even letters, 
which for the sake of others must come not too 
often, and be so impersonal when they did 
come, were but sorry substitutes for the pleas- 
ant intercourse to which she had been accus- 
tomed all her life; the friendly companionship, 
the affectionate interest, the ready service — the 
something dearer yet, and sweeter than all 
these, of which she had had such a brief, imper- 
fect taste. 

Despite her conscientious efforts toward pa- 
tience and cheerfulness, she found herself grow- 
ing dull and dispirited, as the long slow autumn 
died into winter, and the days grew shorter, 


294 


IN mother’s place. 


darker, sadder. She could not help the feeling 
that her position in life was hard to fill happily 
because an anomalous one. Other girls of her 
age — she was barely nineteen — had nothing to 
do but to be young and happy; to busy them- 
selves, of course, in all manner of young lady 
ways, but still, to be only girls, with only a 
girl’s duties and responsibilities, which left 
plenty of time and spirit for the pleasures, the 
amusements, the “good times ’’which are apt 
to come in a girl’s way. 

But upon her young shoulders a double 
weight of obligations had been laid; she 
had been called to be a woman as well as a girl, 
mother as well as sister, the companion of her 
father, the mistress of the house ; and the double 
set of duties were of necessity often in con- 
flict. Her young friends grew discouraged af- 
ter a while in their attempts to keep her in her 
old place in their circle, when on coming to ask 
her to do this or that, or to come with them 
here or there, or join them in one or another of 
the old social undertakings, when the answer 
so often met them : “ I am so sorry, but I really 
cannot to-day. My father is not well, and I 
can’t leave him; or, the others are all out, and 
there is no one to look after Jessie ; or, it is 
house-cleaning, or pickling, or preserving time ; 
or, there is company expected to dinner, and I 


HELP IN TIME OF NEED. 295 

am obliged to be at home; or, only see that 
pile of mending which has got to be done ! 

“ It is too bad,” the girls would say, going out 
of the house after some such ineffectual errand, 
with a disappointed look upon their care-free 
young faces; “but that poor thing is com- 
pletely tied down to that big family. We 
might as well leave off worrying her, asking 
her to do things which she really cannot.” 

So by degrees, it seemed to Jocelyn that the 
circle of her pleasures was narrowing all the 
time, while that of her duties was increasing. 
She could not bring herself to consent to give 
up her class in Sunday-school, nor her post as 
secretary of the Young People’s Association, 
nor her visits to certain poor people who count- 
ed her as their best friend. And to make time 
for these pious tasks, in addition to her daily 
household duties, she must relinquish the 
pleasant walks and talks, the social gatherings, 
the frequent interchange of visits, the thousand 
“airy nothings” that fill up the lives of most 
girls for the brief period of joyous youth. 

She did her best, our good Jocelyn, to make 
herself content with her lot; to put aside self, 
and live for those whom the great Father had 
entrusted to her keeping; to keep her own 
spirit serene and bright so that she might pre- 
serve the atmosphere of the house, one of 


296 


IN mother’s place. 


“sweetness and light.” But she found it more 
and more difficult as the winter advanced cold, 
dark, and stormy. The care of little Jessie, 
who was too delicate to go to school, all through 
the long, dull, and yet busy days, the effort to 
keep her amused and happy, wore upon her 
spirits : the wet weather made Aunt Peggy’s 
“rheumatiz” bad, and affected her temper cor- 
respondingly; there were constant disagree- 
ments to settle between, her and Mahaly; but 
the afternoons were the worst of all, and Joce- 
lyn really came to dread the hour of return 
from school. 

It rained so almost incessantly that the chil- 
dren could scarcely be out of doors at all. J anet 
had not yet returned from W ashington, where her 
letters told of no end of delightful happenings. 
Jem was thus thrown upon Joe for companion- 
ship ; Jessie, tired of her long day with only 
“grown-ups,” would want to join them. They 
would all come tumbling in upon Jocelyn as 
she sat by the fire with her sewing in the big 
old family sitting-room ; and their advent was 
the signal for the vanishing of all peace and 
quiet. 

Tired themselves of the enforced order of 
the school-room, they desired to revel in liberty 
to their hearts’ content ; to make as much noise 
as they liked ; to devour bread and jam, crack 


HELP IN TIME OF NEED. 297 

walnuts, make molasses taffy; play ‘‘jacks,” 
chase each other round the room, shout, laugh, 
tease, and even quarrel, by way of a change, as 
is the manner with half-grown brothers and sis- 
ters, the world over. And Jocelyn, remember- 
ing that young things will be young things, and 
trying to be a mother to them, would put up 
with the confusion and “hullabaloo” as long as 
she could ; then would become dignified and 
authoritative, and insist upon its being moder- 
ated ; then would lay aside her work and give 
herself up to the task of arranging more peace- 
able amusements ; play games with them, tell 
stories, cover balls, make bags for marbles, turn 
from one thing to another, thankful if she could 
only keep them good-tempered and happy, so 
that her father, coming in from his long, per- 
haps arduous work at the office, should not find 
discomfort and discontent in his home. 

She did her best, but it was a great strain 
upon nerves and spirits, and even temper 
began to give way under the steady wear and 
tear, so that more than once her pillow was wet 
with tears at night because some one had said 
she was “ cross,” and she could not but feel 
that it was true ! 

One day everything seemed to culminate in 
one of those domestic crises that will occur “in 
the best regulated families.” Aunt Peggy was 


298 


IN mother’s place. 


sick ; breakfast late ; the children worried and 
hurried in getting off to school ; her father 
with a resigned look, making his way out of 
the house as speedily as he could, and little 
Jessie, feeling as a child always does, the dis- 
comfort in the atmosphere, fretful and exacting 
beyond her wont. Jocelyn went about from 
room to room, attending to Mahaly’s duties so 
that she might take the cook’s place in the 
kitchen ; her little sister followed at her heels, 
nagging, complaining that her head ached, her 
doll was broken, her kitten had scratched her ; 
nobody loved her, and she wished, oh, she 
wished her ‘mo’ver’ hadn’t gone away and left 
her all alone in the world ! 

Poor Jocelyn ! how she wished it too ! How 
all her vexed young soul was crying out for 

“ The touch of a vanished hand, 

And the sound of a voice that is still! ” 

She kept herself under control as long as she 
could, but by the time lunch was over, the 
house in order, a -tiresome visitor departed, and 
the hour at hand when Joe and Jem would 
come rushing home with their thousand and 
one demands upon her, she was so tired and 
nervous that she felt as though flesh and heart 
were failing. 

“I just cannot stand it this afternoon ! ” she 


HELP IN TIME OF NEED. 


299 


cried to herself, glancing at the clock with a 
sort of haunted look : “ it’s going to rain again 
— they will have to stay in the house ; I feel as 
if it would drive me crazy to have to be shut 
up with them till dinner-time ! The wildest 
storm would be better than that, and I am go- 
ing out, come what may. I suppose if they 
really begin to pull the house down about her 
ears, Juliet will condescend to come to the 
rescue.” 

“She never does,” she went on bitterly, as 
she tied on her bonnet and buttoned her coat 
with fingers trembling with nervous hurry. 
“She just walks straight up to her own room 
every single day, and makes herself comfort- 
able, reading her books, writing her letters, fix- 
ing her own pretty things, and never gives a 
thought or a care to poor me, worrying down- 
stairs with those noisy children. I don’t see 
how she can be so selfish ; but this one after- 
noon anyhow, I am going to leave them all to 
their own devices! ” 

“ Why, where are you going, Dottelyn ? 
Take me wif you,” pleaded Jessie, meeting 
her in the hall with a hot “ sugar-cake ” in her 
hand which Mahaly had just given her. 

“ I can’t. It’s going to rain ; go play party 
with your dolls ; I’ll be back by-and-bye,” 
Jocelyn answered briefly, and hurried out of 


300 


in mother’s place. 


the door, like one escaping, leaving the little 
girl standing dumb with surprise at the sudden- 
ness of her departure. 

“ Dottelyn’s went away and never kissed me 
good-by ! ” she wailed to the colored girl as 
soon as she could find voice; but Jocelyn did 
not hear nor heed her ; for once she had deter- 
mined to take unto herself wings as of the 
wind, and fly whithersoever she listed ! 

She walked rapidly along with a sort of reck- 
less energy, heedless of the great rain-drops 
that were beginning to fall, and turning into 
huge snow-flakes as they came scurrying to the 
ground. She did not know or care where she 
was going ; she was conscious only of a bliss- 
ful sense of freedom, of a wild exhilarating 
pleasure in drawing in long full breaths of the 
keen fresh wind, and battling her way through 
the fast whitening storm. Up one street, and 
down another, she marched with a sort of reso- 
lute haste, not even seeing the many wondering 
smiles and nods that greeted her from various 
windows as she hurried past ; neither knowing 
or caring where she was going, thinking noth- 
ing, feeling nothing, except the stinging, invig- 
orating thrill of. being out of the house — alone 
— in the wind and the storm, with which her 
spirit just now seemed in harmony ! 

She came to herself suddenly with a start, 


HELP IN TIME OF NEED. 301 

finding herself astray in a narrow, unpaved 
street, quite on the outskirts of the town, lead- 
ing down to the waterside, and terminating in 
the only factory Oakleigh possessed — the first 
fruits of the “ new South.” It was, like most 
of its class, a huge, unpainted, barrack-like 
structure, through whose dingy windows the 
buzz and whirr of many machines — human and 
otherwise — were indistinctly audible : on either 
side of the squalid roadway stood huddled to- 
gether the mean little houses of the mill-hands, 
with here and there a group of dirty unkempt 
children trying to scrape up enough of the 
muddy snow to make balls wherewith to pelt 
each other ; and at door and window slatternly 
women came to stare at the strange spectacle 
of a “ town-lady ” in the purlieus of Mill- 
alley. 

Jocelyn recovered her senses sufficiently at 
sight of her unpleasant surroundings, to real- 
ize that it must be nearly time for the close of 
work, and the whole tide of operatives, men, 
women, and children, might at any moment 
come pouring down the street. They were not 
pleasant folks to meet, some of them, she con- 
jectured ; but she felt a strange reluctance 
toward going home as yet, and merely retracing 
her steps to the head of the alley, she struck 
out on the lonely turnpike where she would be 


302 in mother’s place. 

sure of meeting nothing but the whistling wind 
and the snow-flakes whirling and wheeling in 
its train. 

She walked hard and fast, still revelling in 
the keen excitement of the weather, but pres- 
ently, there came to her ear, amid the piping 
of the blast, the muffled tone of a bell, feeling 
its way to her through the thickening snowfall, 
as though to summon her back out of the storm 
and the darkness that would soon begin to 
gather. 

“That must be the factory -bell now,” she' 
said to herself. “ I didn’t know it rang at clos- 
ing. By the time I can get back to the town 
the people will all be scattered to their homes, 
and I suppose it is high time I was getting back 
to mine, heigho ! I wonder anyhow, what my 
father, what Dick, would say to my wandering 
about this wild way in a snow squall ! ” 

She turned about, half-frightened herself at 
the thought, and made her way back as swiftly 
as she could, feeling a certain strange comfort 
in the friendly gleam of the lights through the 
white shower, and the summoning sound of the 
bell, which oddly enough, continued to ring, 
and which seemed to her like a call. Its rather 
flat, tinkling peal kept up till she had entered 
the town again, crossed Mill-alley, which was 
empty, as she had thought likely, of all but one 


HELP IN TIME OF NEED. 303 

or two stragglers, loitering to gossip, and turned 
into a cleaner and more decent street above. 
There it came .to a stop, but not before she had 
traced its sound to the little wooden steeple of 
a small plain church, or meeting-house, from 
whose narrow windows lights were streaming 
out as if in kindly invitation to come in. It 
was some two or three blocks away, down at 
the foot of the street, and Jocelyn was think- 
ing that she ought to go home ; but, urged by 
an impulse which she could not resist, she 
turned her steps in that direction, and walked 
slowly and hesitatingly down the street. While 
she still lingered, irresolute, on the opposite 
sidewalk, there suddenly broke forth through 
the dimness of the twilight and the snow, the 
notes of a hymn which struck upon Jocelyn’s 
ear like the call of a remembered voice. She 
listened for a moment, holding her breath : the 
wild and plaintive strain sent a thrill to her 
heart, and brought the tears to her eyes. 

“ Jesus lover of my soul. 

Let me to thy bosom fly, 

While the waves of trouble roll, 

While the tempest still is high—” 

“ Yes, it is my mother’s favorite hymn, and 
the tune she used to sing it to. Oh, I must go 
in!” 


304 


IN mother’s place. 


And hesitating no longer, Jocelyn crossed 
the street, went up the little wooden steps, and 
entered at the low swinging door. 

It was a very small and humble temple in 
which she found herself : uncarpeted aisle, un- 
painted benches, kerosene lamps, by whose dim 
glare she descried the toil-worn and weather- 
beaten faces of the scattered congregation, mill- 
hands, she conjectured they were mostly ; rough- 
looking, down-faced men ; homely women, with 
tired, and some with anxious, or saddened eyes ; 
here and there a girl, young as herself, from 
whose cheeks the roses had not yet faded, nor 
the laughter out of their looks, and showing 
their youth by a bit of cheap “artificials” in 
their bonnets, or a gaudy ring upon their coarse, 
ungloved hands. But all were decent in their 
appearance, devout in their behavior; and sing- 
ing the dear old words of her mother’s hymn to 
her mother’s tune, as earnestly and reverently, 
though with many an extraneous quake and 
quaver, as she could have done herself. 

They took no special notice of her entrance ; 
one after another new-comer kept dropping in 
from time to time ; they were standing as they 
were singing, and singing with all their heart ; 
and Jocelyn quietly slipped into an unoccupied 
pew, and lifted up her voice and her heart in 
unison with them. The minister stood up be- 


HELP IN TIME OF NEED. 


305 


fore them upon a low platform of unpainted 
pine: a young man, one of “the people,” like 
themselves, but with an earnest face, and a 
singularly sincere and sympathetic voice. After 
the hymn was ended, which he led in a full 
deep baritone voice, he spoke a few words of ex- 
hortation, counsel, comfort; just what Jocelyn 
thought must go straight to the hearts of such 
listeners as those before him, and which stirred 
her own with strange unexpected power. 
Afterward he prayed ; and he seemed to divine 
all the most real and secret wants and troubles, 
hopes, and fears, and sorrows, aye, and joys, of 
those humble, but very human souls, and bear 
them to the feet of God as though they were 
his own. That they voiced the inmost cry of 
the heart was shown by the frequent low 
amens, that sounded out here and there among 
the kneeling assembly, and Jocelyn felt awed, 
and pondered, more than once, 

“It is just what I would have asked for my- 
self!” When the prayer was ended, they sang 
again, rising from their knees, and standing 
reverently; and again the hymn was one that 
Jocelyn loved: 

“Jesus, my Saviour, look on me, 

For I am weary and opprest ; 

I come to cast myself on Thee : 

Thou art my Rest.” 

20 


306 


in mother’s place. 


She did not need the dusty little hymn book 
which lay on the bench beside her ; every line 
of the tender, impassioned strain was familiar 
to her, and she sang it through with a fervor of 
feeling, a sense of her own share in that “Life,” 
that “ Light,” that “ Peace,” which had not 
visited her tired and discouraged soul for many 
days. 

The service was very short ; a brief prayer 
from one or two of the gray -haired, ruggedmen 
among the audience; another sweet old-fash- 
ioned hymn, set in a more joyous key to send 
them home happy and uplifted — 

“ His loving kindness, oh how free ! ” 

a word of benediction, and it was over. The 
scanty congregation was scattered ; the lights 
put out, the door locked, and Jocelyn herself 
was hurrying homeward along the darkening 
streets as rapidly as she could go. 

But with what a different feeling in her heart 
from that with which she had left the house 
two hours ago ! What a new sweet sense of 
comfort ; of the nearness and realness of that 
Friend who is “ a very present help in time of 
trouble ” ; what regret and compunction for her 
own impatience, and weariness of duty ! 

“ What are my tasks, my trials, compared to 
theirs ? ” she asked herself, reproachfully. 


HELP IN TIME OF NEED. 


807 


“ How tired and joyless, and yet how resigned, 
some of those faces looked ! What a blessing 
it must be to them to have that dear little half- 
way house to stop and forget about their 
troubles for awhile and rest themselves, soul 
and body, between that great noisy mill and 
their own bare homes ! I remember now hear- 
ing about it; that little chapel where a daily 
prayer-meeting had been started at five o’clock 
to catch them, those who would come, on their 
way home from the factory. Bethel, I think 
they call it, and indeed it must seem like the 
very gate of heaven to some of them; the 
quiet and the rest, and the letting their dumb 
souls out in the hymns, and that young man’s 
earnest, genuine way of speaking to them. I 
know it has helped me to-day, in just the way 
I needed to be helped. I wish I could go every 
day — oh, how I wish it ! That little peaceful 
half hour of prayer and praise at the close of 
the day — what a boon it would be ! And if 
only Juliet would — but there, I must not even 
think of it. Let me be thankful for what I 
have had already ” 

And she opened the gate and hastened up 
the snowy path to her own home, wondering a 
little anxiously what state of things she should 
find therein. 

There were still a few minutes wanting of 


308 


IN mother’s place. 


six, and the absence of her father’s coat and 
hat in the hall showed that he had not yet come 
in. None of the children were about, but a 
cheerful hum of voices sounded from the sit- 
ting-room, and Jocelyn, opening the door 
quietly, found herself in the presence of as cosy 
and comfortable a home scene as heart could 
desire. 

The lamps were not yet lighted, but a great 
fire of oak and pine blazed merrily upon the 
hearth; Joe was stretched out, boy-fashion, on 
the rug in front of it. Juliet sat in the big 
easy-chair with Jessie on her lap; Jem was on 
an ottoman close by, and there seemed to be 
an animated conversation going on on the sub- 
ject of, “ Darkest Africa,” the great volume 
which Joe had propped open before him, and 
was looking over by the light of the blazing 
pine-knots. 

It came to a sudden stop as Jocelyn appeared, 
and Jem cried out, “ Why where have you 
been? We’ve been having such a nice time ! ” 

“I thought you wasn’t ever coming back,” 
complained Jessie, but she made no movement 
to leave her comfortable perch on her other sis- 
ter’s knee ; and Jocelyn felt with a sense of 
great relief that her absence had made no 
special difference for once at least. So she only 
, made some laughing salutation, and hastened 


HELP IN TIME OF NEED. 


309 


up-stairs to take off her wraps, smooth her hair, 
and be down again to see that the tea-table was 
just as it should be, and make due inquiries for 
Aunt Peggy’s rheumatism. 

That night as they were all going up to bed, 
Jocelyn drew Juliet for a moment into her own 
room. 

“ I just wanted to give you a kiss, dear, for 
keeping the children happy this afternoon,” she 
said. “ I got into a sort of tired and nervous 
fit, and just longed to get out into the air; but 
I didn’t mean to stay so long.” 

“ There is no reason why you shouldn’t go 
every day, if you want to,” said Juliet, with a 
little constraint in her tone. “ I should think 
you would get tired looking after everything 
so. I am perfectly willing to come down and 
spend the hour before dinner with the children ; 
I don’t mind their noise ; I haven’t any nerves, 
and I’m used to it at school. I would have 
offered before, only I did not wish to intrude. 
I know you are the eldest, and in the mother’s 
place ; and I supposed you preferred to keep 
everything in your own hands.” 


CHAPTER XII. 


joe’s sad escapade. 

A LOOK of hurt surprise took the place of 
the soft grateful warmth in Jocelyn’s face. 
“Did you think so poorly of me then, Juliet? ” 
she asked in a reproachful tone; and then, see- 
ing that her sister only looked at her uneasily, 
but seemed unable to withdraw her words, she 
added, after a moment’s inward struggle, 

“ Well, never mind. I suppose I must have 
given you some reason, though indeed I never 
meant to. And I have misjudged you too; I 
thought you were so absorbed in your own 
affairs you did not care to help me. We have 
each done the other an injustice; but we won’t 
do it any more, will we? we will understand 
each other better after this.” 

Her heart was so full, so softened, with all she 
had been doing and feeling that day, she longed 
to be able to pour it out into a sympathetic ear ; 
she would be glad to put her arms about her 
sister’s neck and seal the compact with a kiss. 
But it was not Juliet’s way to be demonstra- 
ble) 


JOE’S SAD ESCAPADE. 311 

tive, and she stood quite still while she said 
gravely, 

“ I should certainly be very sorry to misun- 
derstand you, Jocelyn: I am sorry if I have. 
And of course, I am perfectly willing to help 
you in any way I can. Only tell me what you 
would like me to do.” 

“Well — ” hesitated Jocelyn; “if it really 
would not be any trouble to you— if you could 
spare the hour before dinner two or three times 
a week — of course, I would not let you impose 
it upon yourself every day — to look after the 
children, and see that things are comfortable 
when father comes home, it would be a very 
great help to me, and I should be very much 
obliged to you. A little walk at that time 
rests me so, and — ” 

“You needn’t say anything more about it,” 
said Juliet. “I shall like, as I said before, to 
have something more to do with the children 
and father too. You can tell me whenever you 
feel like going, and I will be at your service. 
Good night.” 

“ Good night, and thank you, dear, — ” said 
Jocelyn, affectionately ; and then she went on 
to herself ; 

“ See now, how we have each been misjudging 
the other in these naughty hearts of ours. Oh, 
for the love that 4 thinketh no evil ’ ! I suppose 


312 IN mother’s place 

I really have not thought as I ought that it might 
not be altogether pleasant for Juliet to see a 
sister so near her own age invested with power 
and authority in the house, while she still re- 
mained like a child; and worse than that, I 
have taken it for granted that she was selfish 
and didn’t want to be bothered. Well; all that 
must be changed now. I’m so glad I spoke to 
her to-night; that’s one good that has come out 
of my little Bethel already. How thankful I 
am that the way is made plain for me to go 
there again, often. It will be such a comfort, 
such a help ; and I will make it up to Juliet 
in some way. How good it was of her ! I only 
wish she would care a little more about loving 
me, and letting me love her. Perhaps she will 
now ! ” 

And as the days and weeks passed on she 
found this hope gradually realizing itself. Her 
own mind and temper came by degrees back to 
their normal comfortable state when relieved of 
a portion of the care, the responsibility, the 
fatiguing monotony of her life. The mere 
looking forward to that quiet half hour spent 
in that humble little place of worship ; the 
earnest words she heard spoken, the prayers in 
which she too had a share, the sweet, old-fash- 
ioned hymns, in which, more than through any 
other channel, she had always been able to lift 


joe’s sad escapade. 


313 


up her heart to God, were an influence for good 
all through the varied tasks and trials of the 
day, and made its gracious effect felt in the 
home-atmosphere. 

“ You’s my own Dottelyn again,” said Jessie 
in her whimsical fashion one day. “All we 
Jay-birds are very nice; Jem and Joe, and me, 
and Juliet; she’s a whole heap nicer than she 
used to be; she comes and sits down with the 
rest of us all the time, now, don’t she, and I 
like to have you and her both together se\vin’ 
an’ talkin’ here in mother’s room. Yes, slie’s 
awful nice — but you are the very nicest of all, 
Dottelyn ! ” 

“Well! T like that! I don’t see where I 
come in there ! ” cried a gay voice suddenly, as 
the colonnade door was pushed open, and a fa- 
miliar figure appeared laughingly on the thresh- 
old. And while Jocelyn sprang forward with 
a “Why, Janet \ ” and Jessie repeated after her 
“ why, Janet ! ” the little girl laughed and said 
amid the kisses, 

“Oh yes, that’s all very nice; ‘why, JanetV 
as if you were glad to see me. But I’ve been 
standing, peeping and listening more than a 
minute at the door, and all I heard was that 
Jem and Joe and Juliet and Jocelyn were nice; 
I didn’t hear anything about poor little Janet, 
way off in Washington, Miss Jessie!” 


814 


in mother’s place. 


“But you ain’t way off in Washin’ton any 
more ; y ou’s right here, an’ I’m so glad ! ” cried 
Jessie, jumping about with pleasure : and Joce- 
lyn said, “ Yes, indeed ; I guess we are glad 
to have our little astray come safe back home 
again. But why didn’t you let us know? And 
who came with you, and where are they all this 
while ? ” 

“ Oh, there isn’t anybody, only just me ! ” 
cried Janet, gaily. “ You see I had stayed 
long anyhow, and Nan’s ankle was well pretty 
near a month ago. I was having a lovely time, 
you know, but I was beginning to get pretty 
homesick — I did want to see all the J. J’s. 
again so bad ! And Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster, 
they’re friends of Uncle Harry, they were com- 
ing down in the boat, and going on to the next 
landing to see her mother, who lives there ; and 
we didn’t know anything about it till they came 
in yesterday morning to say good-by. And 
then I just felt I had to come too! And I 
coaxed Nan not to mind. They all helped me to 
pack my trunk ; and off I started at a minute’s 
notice. And the Carrs were down at the dock 
with their carriage to meet somebody, and they 
just tucked me in — I wouldn’t have minded 
walking a bit ! And the} r drooped me at the 
gate, and here I am, and oh, so glad ! And I 


joe’s sad escapade. 


315 


don’t see how I can wait till afternoon to see 
father and all the rest of the folks ! ” 

“Well, well!” said Jocelyn, looking at her 
little sister with beaming eyes. “ What a good 
idea that was ! And how tall we’ve grown, 
and how stylish we look, — ” 

“An’ how fast she talks, don’t she?” put 
in Jessie, a little doubtfully. “ Mos’ jus’ like 
Jem, ain’t it, Dottelyn ? ” 

“ Oh ! Don’t give you a chance to put a 
word in, do I?” laughed Janet. “Oh well, 
you see, I’ve got so much lost time to make up 
for! But here’s something to put right in your 
little mouth, Jessie, to comfort you,” and she 
drew out a paper of caramels from her bag and 
put them into the eager little hands. “Now 
you won’t mind my talking, will you, for oh, 
I’ve got so much to tell!” And sooth to say, 
the little girl’s tongue rattled on all through 
that first joyous day of the home-coming in a 
way that seemed strange indeed and new for 
shy, quiet Janet. There was indeed so much to 
tell that could not be put into letters, both of 
the home life at Uncle Harry’s beautiful man- 
sion, and of the many delightful outside inter- 
ests; and all the eager history she poured out 
to Jocelyn during the morning had to be re- 
peated when the young folks came from school 
in the afternoon, and was gone over again, a good 


316 


IN mother’s place. 


deal of it, for the third time, for her father’s 
benefit in the evening. Jem was most 
interested to know all about her Cousin Nannie, 
how she looked, what she said, how she talked, 
what sort of a girl she was anyhow, nowadays, 
and in her own home. Did Janet really like 
her ; was she nice and pleasant and not stuck 
up ; and would it be nice to have her come on 
to Oakleigh and make them a visit ? 

“Yes; she was nice, very nice; Janet did 
like her; so would Jem, and all of them; and 
she was coming on, she and Aunt Emily, her 
mother, both of them sometime in the summer, 
after vacation began.” 

This quieted Jem for awhile, but Joe wanted 
to know about the city itself; was it really so 
beautiful, and had she actually been inside the 
Capitol, and the President’s house, and all that 
sort of thing ? 

“Oh yes indeed! Washington was just as 
lovely as it could be ! Such great broad streets, 
and odd-looking, elegant houses,, and dear little 
parks everywhere, where the grass was green 
even in the winter-time. And she had been 
taken everywhere ; she had been all over the 
Capitol, and listened to the great men speak 
who 4 made the laws,’ as the geography said ; 
only, of course, she couldn’t understand them 
very well. But she had seen all the big pic- 


joe’s sad escapade. 


317 


tures in the rotunda, that were about the 
things they studied in history; and she had 
seen the glorious view from the terrace, and 
climbed up to the top of the dome, so high, so 
high it made her dizzy even to think of it. 
And she had been higher up in the world still, 
away up to the top of Washington’s monument, 
only there she had been carried up in a car they 
called an elevator — and oh, she should never 
forget how it made her feel ! And she had 
been driven all through the beautiful grounds 
of The Soldiers’ Home, and over the river to 
Arlington — oh, the loveliest, sweetest, peace- 
fulest place ! She had been all through the 
grand old mansion; had stood on the portico 
with its big yellow pillars, and looked out all 
over the city and the Heights of Georgetown, 
and up and down the blue Potomac ; and then 
driven in and out among the winding roads, 
where everywhere in the shadow of the beauti- 
ful old trees, the nation’s dead were sleeping. 

Janet waxed quite eloquent in describing 
this historic spot, and even more so in telling 
of her delightful visit to Mount Vernon ; the 
charming sail down the river on the mild win- 
ter’s day that was almost like Indian summer ; 
the quaint old mansion, and the tomb, at which 
every one she thought, must feel like saying 
their prayers. Then there were the picture- 


318 


in mother’s place. 


galleries — “ O, Juliet, you love pictures so, 
you ought to see all the splendid paintings I 
saw, and the statues, though I didn’t care so 
much about them. And Joe — if you could but 
go to the Smithsonian, and to the museum — 
oh, I couldn’t tell you all there was to make it 
just delightful, no, not if I was to talk like this 
for a week ! You must just wait till you go 
and see ’em yourselves ! ” 

And Joe said, “ Yes, and I mean to go too, 
one of these days, you bet ; if I have to work 
hard and earn the money myself ! ” while J uliet, 
more interested in the social side of the charm- 
ing city, thought how delightful it would be to 
“come out” there next winter, under the au- 
spices of a society woman like her aunt ; to have 
a stylish new suit and go about making calls 
with her in a coup£, assisting at “afternoon 
teas” and evening receptions, and getting a 
glimpse of a wider world than the narrow little 
one of Oakleigh. Not that she didn’t love her 
home, of course, but a winter in Washington 
must be so delightful ! She was glad her aunt 
was coming to the Nest next summer ; perhaps 
— who knows ? — she might take a fancy to her 
and ask her to make them a long visit ! Of 
course Jocelyn couldn’t leave, and anyhow, she 
had been once ; and Jem was too little, and 


joe’s sad escapade. 319 

well ! it was something to look forward to as 
possible. 

The reflection, as it were, of Janet’s enjoy- 
ment, seemed to diffuse itself throughout all 
the family ; it gave fruitful theme for talk for 
days and weeks after she had returned, and the 
little girl herself seemed to have grown out of 
a great deal of the shyness and sensitiveness 
which had once stood in the way of her own 
enjoyment and that of others. She came to 
Jocelyn one evening, with just a little timid 
color in her cheek, and held out to her some 
loose sheets of paper covered with her childish 
handwriting. 

44 There was such a pretty house we used to 
pass sometimes,” she said ; 44 it had a double bay- 
window, and under this the head of a man 
carved in the stone. It put a fancy in my 
head, and I wrote it out in a little story. Nan 
got hold of it and showed it to her mother, and 
Aunt Emily seemed to be very much pleased 
with it, and said I ought to be willing to share 
such a pleasure with my friends. So if you 
like, you may read it, too, Jocelyn.” 

44 If I like ? Why, of course I shall like,” 
said Jocelyn, heartily. 44 And may I read it 
aloud to father and the rest of them ? ” 

The color rather deepened in Janet’s sweet 
little serious face at this, but she said — 44 Yes — 


320 


in mother’s place. 


if you like — ” and Jocelyn, promptly “calling 
the meeting to order,” smoothed out the roll of 
manuscript and began : 

THE MAN IN THE BAY WINDOW. 

Everyone said so, and it was true : Helen 
was a thoughtful and queer child. She had no- 
tions in her head that no other children of her 
age, or even older people, would think of. But 
that did not keep her from being good. 
Good? Why, no other child in the family was 
as good as Helen, so Aunt Sara says, and Aunt 
Sara’s ideas of “ good ” are pretty strict. 

“ She will set me crazy with her quare no- 
tions,” says Dinah, “if she don’t quit. Forde 
land’s sake, she come in de kitchen todder day, 
and says in dat drawly voice of hern, ‘ Dinah, 
hain’t you got no pie ? ’ 

‘Yes, honey,’ says I, ‘and pray, what you 
want wid pie ? * 

‘Nothing,’ says she, ‘only the old man who 
holds up the bay-window out front looks so 
tired an’ hungry ! ‘ Go long ! ’ says I, and 

away she went, with such a sorrowful look on 
her face it mos’ broke my heart ! ” 

Meanwhile, what was Helen doing ? Up in 
the third story of the great house was Helen’s 
and her sister Kate’s room. Kate was not like 
her sister Helen. Kate was sharp and wild 


joe’s sad escapade. 


321 


while Helen was the opposite in both. Kate 
was sitting in the window, twirling the fringe 
of a tidy, while Helen was sitting as far away 
from the window as she could get. Kate was 
the first to break the silence. 

“ I don’t see why you want to stick at the 
other end of the room so far away from the 
light!” 

Helen glanced at Kate with a meaning look, 
but she said nothing. When she had finished 
her work she went softly down the broad oak 
stairs, and through the large door, down in 
front of the bay-window. 

Now this bay-window was a strange thing, 
for it seemed to be held up by a man of stone, 
and that was what brought Helen out such a 
cold day as this. Somehow, as she looked at it, 
she seemed to see in the face of stone a tired 
expression ; so every day she would come out, 
and with her small hands hold or push up the 
bay-window, just as though she were taking the 
weight off the old man’s shoulders. And every 
time she did it, she seemed to see a look of re- 
lief on the face of the stone man. 

To-day, as she was performing this task, she 
noticed that the stone man began to smile vig- 
orously, so she smiled back at him ; but no 
sooner had the smile left her lips, than a frog 
leaped out of the deep carving of the window, 
21 


322 IN mother’s PLACE. 

and gave three croaks : when, instead of a frog, 
there stood, dazzling with splendor, a lovely 
young princess, who was as beautiful as the 
sun’s sister, Ripple. The stone man was in- 
stantly changed to a handsome prince, and freed 
from his heavy responsibility. The prince and 
princess took Helen by the hand and were 
going to take her to the palace. Helen rubbed 
her eyes ; and lo, she was sitting in her chair , 
having fallen asleep over her darning ! 

Other children would have been disappointed 
that such a lovely thing was only a dream ; but 
Helen was always happy in her kind heart. 
She could never get over the inclination to hold 
up the bay-window, and never could she be in- 
duced to step inside of it, for fear of adding to 
the weight on the old man’s shoulders. 

And I think it is true, as Dinah says, “ Helen 
is the queerest child on airth! ” 

“ But she was an awfully sweet and cunning 
little child, for all that ! ” cried Jocelyn warmly, 
as she finished reading, and feeling her e} 7 es 
grow moist with the quaintness and tenderness 
of the artless little story. “Don’t you think 
that is a very pretty little idea, father, to come 
into our Janet’s head, and that she has worked 
it up very nicely, for such a ’prentice hand ? ” 

“ Oh, nonsense ! ” interposed Joe in a chaff- 


joe’s sad escapade. 


323 


ing tone. “ What stuff to be writing about, 
holding up a stone man, ‘and giving him pie; 
fairy tales too, princes and princesses, and all 
that! Oh, bah!” 

“ Never mind, Master Joe,” rejoined his 
father with emphasis. “Wiser men even than 
you, young sir, have found both pleasure and 
profit even in fairy tales ; and there is often a 
very good lesson to be found in allegories, and 
that sort of thing. There is certainly a very 
good example of kindness of heart, of pity and 
sympathy, to be found in your sister’s little 
story ; and if we were all as ready to bear one an- 
other’s burdens’ as her little Helen was, this 
world would be quite a different place to live 
in. I confess to being very much pleased my- 
self, to think my little girl has such sweet 
thoughts, and can express them so prettily — ” 
and, while Joe looked abashed, and felt rather 
smaller than was his wont, Janet thrilled with 
pleasure as her father put his arm affectionately 
about her, and gave her a kiss of appreciation ; 
and she thought eagerly, “ Who knows? Perhaps 
some day I may really be an author, and write 
things which will truly go to people’s hearts, 
and help them to be good ! ” 

“But I must first learn to be a great deal 
better myself — ” was the reflection that fol- 
lowed soberly, “and I shall try — by God’s 


824 


IN mother’s place. 


help ! ” was the resolve which planted itself 
then, and grew up, and bore precious fruit 
thereafter, in the sincere and thoughtful young 
soul. 

Janet’s home-coming gave a pleasant change 
to the quiet of the household: it was a long 
time before all of her happy visit was told. 
“ It’s so nice ; there’s always something to talk 
about now! ” said Jem; and affairs went on in 
a very good-tempered and comfortable way in 
the Nest nowadays, though the winter still lin- 
gered, and the weather was as persistently dull 
and wet as it had been before. 

There came a time at length however, when 
the grey February skies lifted their clouds and 
gave place to pale but brightening gleams ; 
when the sun actually shone — if dimly and fit- 
fully by day, and the moon by night; and pres- 
ently there came a breath of real vigorous win- 
ter again, and Jack Frost once more began to 
steal out and silver the grass, and to etch his 
marvelous pictures on the window panes, while 
the world slept, and enjoyed the snuggling 
under warm blankets. 

The young people all exulted in the change ; 
their spirits rose with the lifting clouds, and 
neither Jocelyn nor Juliet were called upon 
any more to provide indoor amusement, for 
everybody wanted to be out after the long con- 


joe’s sad escapade. 


325 


finement, to walk, to run, to play games, to do 
anything which would fill the stifled lungs with 
this free, crisp, invigorating air. 

Joe, especially, being a boy, had felt more 
“ housebound ” than the others, and it seemed 
now almost as though he wished never to be 
under a roof again except for the necessary pur- 
poses of eating and sleeping ! More than once 
he was late for supper, after being out all the 
afternoon; and when his father made decided 
objection to that, he would contrive to disap- 
pear for an hour or two in the course of the 
evening, and have only bluff answers for Jocelyn 
when she came anxiously to speak with him 
about it. 

“ Where have I been? Oh, nowhere; out by 
the gate with some of the boys ; or down at the 
drug-store, where some of the fellows told me 
they were going to be. What’s the use of 
bothering me with questions, Jocelyn? Why 
can’t you leave a body in peace ? ” 

“Because if I don’t, father will, Joe,” his 
sister would answer. “You know he won’t 
have you out at night — you know he is right in 
not allowing you to be round those stores down 
town where all sorts of loafers, men, as well as 
boys, are free to congregate to smoke and chew, 
and talk all sorts of talk. If they are nice 
boys you want to be with, why don’t you bring 


826 


in mothee’s place. 


them up here? You can have the dining-room 
to yourselves all the evening, if you like; I 
will keep the fire burning and the lamp lit, and 
you can be as free as you wish,” — 

“ Oh, free ! ” interrupted Joe in a tone of dis- 
gust. “Free, in a house, shut up in a -room, 
when a fellow wants to be out, where there’s 
something going on. A boy isn’t like a parcel 
o’ girls, with their everlasting crochet- work and 
embroidery and piano and novels; he’s made 
to like to be off, here and there, with other fel- 
lows, and nobody bossing — ” 

“Well, then, you’ll have to be satisfied with 
what you can get of that sort of thing between 
school-out and supper, Joe,” said Jocelyn, 
speaking with more authority than usual. “ I 
want to do all I can to make you happy; but I 
know there will be trouble with father when he 
comes to know of your going down town of 
nights. And I shall have to tell him, you 
know, Joe, little as I shall like to. Oh, I wish 
there was some nice place in this town for rest- 
less fellows like you to spend part of their 
evenings in ! A gymnasium, a bowling-alley, a 
hall for games and entertainments, a reading- 
room and library.” * 

“But there isn’t, you know, so what’s the 
use of talking ? ” Joe would growl, and go off 

* For some not having nice homes.— Editor. 


joe’s sad escapade. 


827 


up-stairs to bed and to sleep ; while his sister 
would lie awake, her heart full of almost a 
mother’s tender anxiety, and think over all 
manner of ways by which an interest might be 
aroused in the sleepy little town; and the 
fathers of boys moved to provide some better 
gathering-place for their sons as they began to 
grow up. 

She went to her father about it on Joe’s 
behalf, as she had gone to him about the boat 
last summer, and he met her in the same sym- 
pathetic and liberal spirit as he had done then. 

“There ought to be something of the kind, 
yes,” he said. “An ounce of prevention, as 
you say, my dear, is better than a pound of 
cure. There should be a branch of the Young 
Men’s Christian Association in our town, with 
all proper appliances, not only for instruction, 
but for recreation and entertainment. Young 
people need those things I know, and I will 
think about the matter; I will take it in hand 
myself, and speak with some of the leading men 
about it. There is money enough, and need 
enough — and meanwhile, Jocelyn, you are a 
good girl, and I don’t know what your father 
would do without you ! ” 

Jocelyn was not inclined to rate herself so 
highly however, and could not help an anxious 
and discouraged feeling when she saw how all 


328 


in mother’s place. 


her efforts seemed to fail to make her restless 
brother really contented in his home. She 
bespoke Juliet’s help again in making the 
evenings pleasant to him after lessons were 
over; and that of her faithful friend, Douglas 
Pryor, as well; but Joe shrugged his boyish 
shoulders and pooh-poohed: “he had no use 
for a fellow that liked to hang round a girl and 
talk poetry ! ” 

And Jocelyn could only keep herself in a state 
of readiness to be companionable when the 
youth condescended to accept her society ; 
for the rest, she strove to content herself with 
the fact of his staying at home in obedience to 
his father’s command, and took the matter in 
prayer to God, not only in the privacy of her 
own chamber, but in those quiet, twilight hours 
when she still sought the little Bethel, and 
prayed and sung, and found rest for her soul, 
within its humble walls. 

One morning, while the frost was yet upon 
the ground, and one’s warm bed would seem 
the most comfortable place in the world, Joce- 
lyn, who had become a light sleeper since she 
had the responsibility of the household laid 
upon her, was roused from her slumbers by a 
sound which seemed like the cautious effort to 
open a door noiselessly. She started up in bed 
to listen, and distinctly heard the careful turn- 


joe’s sad escapade. 


329 


ing of the knob, followed by a stealthy step 
upon the stair, a creak, and a smothered excla- 
mation; “What can it be? Some one enter- 
ing the house at this hour ? ” she said to her- 
self with a strange foreboding at her heart ; and 
snatching a shawl from the foot of the bed, she 
threw it around her, sprang to her feet, and 
opened her door just in time to confront — Joe 
— upon the landing. 

She stood for a moment gazing at him in 
speechless consternation. Even in the dim 
light of the early dawn he was a sorry specta- 
cle: his face pale and haggard, though with 
red spots burning upon the cheeks, his eyes 
bloodshot and wild, his hair disordered, his 
clothes streaked with mud ; and a faint, sicken- 
ing odor hanging about him that told only too 
plainly the wretched fact — Joe — her brother, 
her little brother, a mere boy yet, mother’s boy 
— had been drinking. 

Stricken dumb with the shame, the horror of 
it, the sister could only gaze in speechless mis- 
ery at the downcast, dogged face that dared 
not lift itself to hers; till presently, impatient 
of the delay, the boy pushed her roughly aside: 
“ Get away, let me pass ! ” he muttered hoarsely. 
“ I am tired; I want to go to bed.” 

Too faint to speak, almost to move, she 
leaned helplessly against the wall, while he 


380 


IN mother’s place. 


made his way past her, slouched heavily down 
the hall to his own little room, opened the door 
and shut it again; while Jocelyn, summoning 
all her powers of self-control, crept back to her 
own bed, and lay there, helpless, overwhelmed; 
crying under her breath. 

“ My heavenly F ather ! My heavenly F ather ! ” 

She lay there until the summons of the ris- 
ing-bell, vigorously handled by Mahaly, warned 
her that it was time to make ready for breakfast ; 
then she rose, tottering as if from a long illness, 
made her toilet, she scarce knew how, and 
smoothed her face as well as she could. 

“ The others must not know about this yet, 
no, not even father, until I have found out 
something about it and can break it to him as 
easily as possible;” and she tried to smile as 
usual, and busy herself with the table service, 
so as not to speak any more than was necessary, 
lest her voice should betray her. Jem’s keen 
eyes were upon her more than once however, 
and it was Jem’s quick tongue which broke out 
“ Why where is Joe, the lazy fellow? He’ll be 
late for school if he don’t look out.” 

It cost an effort to answer quietly,, “ Joe 
doesn’t feel very well this morning. He’s got 
a bad headache, and I thought he had better 
lie still a little longer.” 

“ Oh the idea ! Why he was well enough 


joe’s sad escapade. 


331 


last night,” cried the others in chorus ; and Mr. 
Jerome said gravely “ You mustn’t coddle the 
boy too much, you know, Jocelyn ; you had bet- 
ter send him to school unless he is really sick.” 

She said she would see, by and by, and 
waited in scarcely controllable nervousness, till 
the breakfast was all eaten, the lunch-baskets 
filled, and all had departed to the business of 
the day : then she poured out a cup of coffee, 
put a hot roll and an egg upon a little white- 
napkined tray, and bidding Jessie help Mahaly 
put away the china and not come up-stairs to 
disturb brother, she made her way with a 
strange slow step, a strange sick feeling, up to 
the boy’s chamber. She stood at the door for 
a moment, dreading to enter, but hearing him 
tossing about and groaning, she opened the 
door, and closing it softly behind her, went in 
and sat down on the edge of the bed. 

The boy turned over so as to hide his face 
from her, and muttered roughly, 

“What did you come in for, waking me up? 
I don’t want anything to eat ; I want to go to 
sleep.” 

“But you were not asleep, Joe; I listened 
to see. And I think a cup of coffee will do 
you good. Come, you will sit up and drink it 
now, won’t you, since I’ve brought it ? ” 

The gentle tone, the kind manner, broke 


332 


in mother’s place. 


down the lad’s attempted hardness. “ I don’t 
see why you did bring it,” he said, and there 
was a sob in his voice. “ I don’t see why you 
come near me at all, or do anything kind for 
me. I’m not fit for you even to speak to ! ” 
And he buried his head in the pillow, and the 
bed shook with his passion of crying. 

Jocelyn set her tray down upon a table, and 
came and put her arms about her brother. 

“Tell me about it, Joe,” she said. “Let me 
know what has happened ; what it all means.” 

He choked down his sobs as soon as he could, 
and suddenly throwing back the cover he had 
pulled over his head, he raised himself in 
the bed and met his sister’s look for the first 
time. 

“ I will tell you about it,” he said. “ I am 
bad enough, but I don’t want you to be think- 
ing me worse than I am. I know you are smell- 
ing that beastly stuff; faugh! I feel as if I 
should never be clean of it again myself! But 
I didn’t drink it knowingly; I never tasted a 
drop of anything of the kind before in my life. 
They made me swallow it; they said it was only 
ginger-tea, or something of that kind they had 
brought along to keep out the cold. And I was 
shivering so, that I couldn’t keep up, and so I 
let them pour it down my throat. And it made 
me so sick — so deathly sick ; it was some sort 


joe’s sad escapade. 


333 


of vile liquor, and they gave me so much before 
I got the taste. Oh you needn’t think I haven’t 
paid for what wrong I did ; I have — I have ! ” 
“But what, Joe?” urged Jocelyn, full of 
anxiety, and dread of she knew not what. 
“ Who made you ? Where were you ? What 
have you been doing Joe, away from home, in 
the dead of the night ? ” 

“ Oh, nothing so dreadful in itself, don’t be 
worried. Though of course I knew my father 
would never have let me go; and well was I 
served, for going against his will. You know 
what a stupid sort of a winter it has been ; 
rain, rain, and stay in the house till a fellow 
was sick of it; and some of the boys, Jim 
Riley, and Will Holt, and a lot of the others, 
were just dying for some sort of lark after the 
weather did get decent. And Teke Holly and 
another colored man, they told us one day that 
they had tracked a coon in the woods, way up 
along the river; and they said they were going 
out some night with their dogs to try to tree 
him ; and they said if we boys would each of us 
give them a half a dollar apiece they’d take us 
along, and show us a bit of real sport. So the 
other boys said it would be such high old fun, 
and that they’d go if I would; and I said I’d 
go if they would. And so we went. I didn’t 
think it was any harm in itself, and I thought 


384 


TN MOTHER’S PLACE. 


fathers forgot how they felt when they were 
boys themselves. But don’t look so, Jocelyn ! ” 

Jocelyn was listening almost appalled. “Oh 
Joe ! a boy like you, out all night, in the woods, 
with dogs, and those rough negro men, — ” 

She drew a long shuddering breath, and Joe 
shifted uneasily in the bed, and looked as mis- 
erable as she could wish. him. 

“I know,” he said; “I know just how it 
seems to you, and I can just tell you it was 
worse than it seems. It’s the last spree of that 
kind I’ll ever go on, you may be sure of that ! 
We tramped and tramped till I thought I should 
drop, though I’m not a baby at walking either. 
But the other boys were a good deal bigger and 
stronger than I am, and even they pretty near 
gave out, and still there wasn’t any sign of a 
coon. And those negro fellows — they were 
just as low and rough as they could be. They 
talked so I was ashamed to hear them, and when 
I tried to stop them they made fun of me, or 
just told me right out to shut up !” 

“Oh, the wretches! ” interjected Jocelyn. 

# “And they got so mad when they could not 
track the coon that they beat the dogs, oh, 
dreadfully ! And the poor creatures howled so, 
and ran about yelping through the trees — oh, 
it sounded so dismal, in the dead of the night, 
and all so dark, with only little bits of the 


joe’s sad escapade. 


335 


moon, and the black men’s lanterns. And 
presently one of the dogs nosed out a hare-gum 
that somebody had set in the woods to catch 
the mollys. And there was one in it, a poor 
little thing, with such frightened-looking eyes, 
and the men tore it out of the trap, all trem- 
bling and struggling — ” 

“Oh, oh, Joe!” Jocelyn began to tremble 
herself, and put up her hands to her face as if 
to shut out the cruel spectacle. 

“ Yes, well of course, that’s what all hunters 
have to do, and everybody goes for game when 
they can get it, you know. But I don’t know; 
I never was ’round before when anything was 
killed, and it seemed to me they were so, so 
brutal, about it; and they laughed and joked 
and said they were in luck, and they were going 
to have a barbecue right then and there. And 
they tore off the pretty gray skin with their 
knives, and pitched the entrails to the dogs, 
and they fought and snarled over them. And 
then they made a fire out of sticks and bits of 
light wood, and began to roast the poor little 
thing while it was ’most alive still, it seemed to 
me ; and oh, somehow, it was all so like canni- 
bals, it just made me sick, Jocelyn; deathly 
sick. And the others made all sorts of sport of 
me, and declared it was airs, and that I should 
eat some of it. And I declared I wouldn’t; for 


336 


IN mother’s place. 


besides everything else, it was stealing. And I 
got raging mad when they called me names, 
baby, and Miss Molly, and all that. I pulled 
away from them, and went and threw myself 
down on the ground a good way off ; and I was 
so hot, and the frost was all on the shatters, 
and I got chilled, and began to shake and shake, 
and my teeth to chatter, chatter, as though they 
never would stop ! And then one of the men 
took a bottle out of his pocket and gave it to 
Jim Riley. ‘It’s old Jamaikey,’ he said, ‘tell 
him it’s Jamaikey ginger. I fotched it along to 
keep out the cold ; make him take some.’ 

“So I thought it was some sort of ginger stuff 
we drink at home when we’ve got a cold, and I 
was so chilled to the very marrow, I put it to 
my lips, and Jim jounced it, so a great lot went 
down my throat before I got the taste of it. 
And then I knew they’d fooled me, and that 
made me so mad again, that I felt all on fire, 
and then I got awfully dizzy and queer. And 1 
reckon Jim and Bill got scared, for they up 
and told the men they had to bring us straight 
home, or they wouldn’t get a cent of money. 
So they did, and here I am, and a nice fellow 
to be sure ! ” 

“Oh, oh Joe." You poor, wilful, misguided 
boy!” cried Jocelyn, almost overwhelmed. 
“ What, what a story! But I’m glad it isn’t so 


joe’s sad escapade. 


S37 


bad as I feared. Oh Joe! when I met you 
there in the hall this morning, and saw that 
you had been — been — oh, I can’t say the horrid 
word! — it seemed to me as though I wanted to 
drop right down there and never lift up my 
head any more ! ” 

Joe put out his hand all trembling still, from 
under the cover, and put it on her shoulder as 
she sat leaning over him. 

“Don’t, don’t, J. J.,” he begged. “It wasn't 
that indeed ; it is exactly true as I told you. 
I saw what you were thinking then, but I just 
hadn’t the strength to speak, for the tire and 
the shame. I was so dead-beat I couldn’t 
think of anything but getting into bed, and I 
believe I was asleep before I was fairly in. 
Jocelyn, I don’t see how you can be decent to 
me at all. I feel like a wretch, a scamp, a ras- 
cal—” 

“Oh, oh! don’t say such words!” cried 
his sister, laying her hand over his lips, and not 
drawing it away when he held it there and 
kissed it. 

“It isn’t that you are bad , Joe,” Jocelyn 
went on: “You get just as much disgusted, 
well, as I should think a Jerome would be! 
when you find yourself in the midst of bad, 
low company. But you are restless, and impa- 
tient, and stubborn; you want your own way, 
22 


838 


IN mother’s place. 


and you won’t see that you’re not old enough 
to take others’ judgment instead of your own. 
And that leads you into deception : oh, Joe, 
only think of mother's boy stealing in and out 
of the house like a thief in the night ! ” 

“Oh don’t, I say!” groaned the lad, smit- 
ten to the heart by the truth of these words, so 
tenderly, yet so piercingly uttered. “ It will 
be the last time, I promise you that. I’ve got 
my full, arid I’ll never, never go with that lot 
again, no matter how they try to get me. I 
sha’n’t forget last night in one good while.” 

“And that isn’t the worst of it, Joe,” said 
Jocelyn, looking distressed and anxious. “ There 
is father, you have got to tell him. Poor 
father ! and he was so good to you about the 
boat and all ! ” 

Joe made a sudden turn over in the bed, and 
gave another deep groan. After a moment’s 
silence, he said “ I don’t see what’s the good of 
that. It’ll only make him feel bad, and give up 
trusting me, altogether ; and that won’t help 
him nor me either. You don’t suppose I’m 
afraid of his flogging me, do you, or locking 
me in o’ nights ? I’d rather take that, a heap, 
than tell him what I know will hurt him so. 
For he is just the best old father in the world, 
and I could knock my head against the wall for 
doing what I know he would never have listened 


joe’s sad escapade. 


339 


to. But now it’s done — and I know so well the 
like will never be done again — what’s the use of 
worrying him, and shaming me down to the 
ground, Jocelyn?” 

Jocelyn looked more distressed than ever as 
she saw how the mere thought of speaking to 
his father overcame him. She would have 
spared him if she could, but she knew she must 
not; this was no time for weakness. She laid 
her cool hand upon his flushed forehead; she 
smoothed away the rumpled hair; she spoke 
very tenderly, but she was firm nevertheless. 

“I’m sorry, awfully sorry, Joe,” she said, 
“ for you as well as for poor father. But you 
ought to have thought of that before, and now 
I’m afraid you’ll have to go through with it. 
I can’t argue with you about it, Joe; I can 
only feel; and I know that such a thing as this 
ought not to happen in the house and father 
know nothing about it until perhaps he hears 
it from somebody outside. Do you think that 
would make it any easier for him, or for you? 
No, Joe ; you must be a brave boy, and take 
the consequences of what you’ve done, like a 
man. Why, you are not like Juliet. She said 
right away when she got into that scrape last 
summer that father must know.” 

“Oh, a girl!” exclaimed Joe. “They don’t 
mind such things so much. They cry a little, 


340 


in mother’s place. 


and then get kissed, and then it’s all over. Be- 
sides, she didn’t do any particular harm; it 
was that cat of a Pickett girl. But I — ! Oh, 
I do wish you wouldn’t bother me now, Jocelyn. 
I feel bad enough already. I can just tell you 
if you had the head that I’ve got now, you 
wouldn’t want to have anything worse to think 
about. You might better be getting me some 
baywater, or camphor, or something, to rub it 
with, and try to keep it from splitting apart!” 

Jocelyn started up at once, all the woman 
and the nurse roused within her. 

“You poor boy,” she said, pityingly; “I 
don’t wonder your head aches. And here we 
have let your coffee get cold, and that would 
help you more than anything. I’ll go down 
and bring you a hot cup, and then I’ll bathe 
your head as long as you want me — ” 

But Joe caught her by the arm and held her 
back. 

“No, no,” he said. “You shan’t go. It isn’t 
cold ; it’s good enough and too good for such as 
me. Give it to me and let me drink it down, 
— I can’t eat a mouthful yet — and then stay 
with me, J. J., good old J. J ! and keep your 
hand on my head, and maybe I’ll drop off to 
sleep again. And I'll do what you want 
me — if I can ! ” 

So the sister sat patiently for a long hour by 


joe’s sad escapade. 


341 


the side of her erring brother, stroking away 
the pain from his throbbing temples with her 
soft, cool hand, until at length, worn out with, 
his wretched night’s experience, he fell into a 
deep sleep. Then, lifting her heart in a last 
fervent prayer to God that this might indeed 
be the turning-point in his life, she rose noise- 
lessly and went softly out of the room, to find 
a new duty awaiting her. 

Little Jessie stood out in the passage, the 
picture of woe. 

“I thought you were never coming!” she 
complained. 

“ Oh, but I’m here now, you see ; and we 
must get our hats on at once and run off to 
market, to see about papa’s dinner. And Jes- 
sie shall choose what we shall have for dessert! ” 


CHAPTER XIII. 


JOCELYN TELLS JOE SOMETHING. 

HEN Joe appeared at the dinner-table, 



* ’ rested and refreshed by his quiet day in 
bed, he looked very much as usual, and only 
Jocelyn noticed the little guilty start with which 
he almost shrank away, as his father said cheerily, 

“ Well, my boy, all right again ? How’s the 
appetite?” Jem, it is true, commented 
shrewdly, “The idea of Joe, having headaches 
like a girl ! ” But her brother did not appear 
to hear her, and dinner went on pleasantly as 
usual, and the evening occupations followed. 
Jocelyn, sitting by the fire with her work, sent 
more than one appealing glance towards the 
round table, where her brother, with the others, 
sat pouring over his lessons for the next da y. 
He did not seem to notice, however, and after 
sometime, pushing away his books, he got up, 
muttering something about his eyes being tired, 
said good night, and went off to bed again. 

Jocelyn saw that he was avoiding her, and 
for a time she forbore to press upon him the 
painful duty from which she saw he still shrank 
so nervously. 


( 342 ) 


JOCELYN TELLS JOE SOMETHING. 343 


“ I will give him time,” she said to herself, 
“to fight the battle out with his own con- 
science — and God help him to conquer in the 
end ! ” 

But as day after day passed, and grew even 
into weeks, and her brother still persistently 
kept out of her way, she determined to make 
an opportunity to speak to him. The brief 
touch of winter had vanished almost as soon as 
it had come ; there had been a few blustering 
winds in the first days of March, and now the 
early southern spring was upon them in all its 
sudden bloom and fragrance. Jocelyn, feeling 
oppressed one evening with the warmth and 
light of the sitting-room, where the young peo- 
ple were busy round the lamp with their les- 
sons for the morrow, got up, and throwing a 
shawl round her shoulders, passed through the 
hall and stepped out upon the little back porch 
which belonged to the kitchen, and where 
Aunt Peggy was wont to smoke her pipe se- 
renely of a summer evening. She was safe in 
bed now, as Jocelyn knew, ahd there was no 
one in the kitchen but Joe, who, as she had 
heard him say, was there, trying to melt some 
glue with which he purposed to repair some 
of his boyish belongings, over the half-dead em- 
bers in the stove. 

It was a glorious night ; the lawn was all in 


344 in mother’s place. 

a flood of silver moonlight ; the blossoms of 
the flowering almond by the porch shone white 
in the radiance. Jocelyn stood gazing at the 
glory of it all, and thinking what should she do, 
how should she speak, so as to reach the heart 
she longed to waken, when some movement of 
hers became audible to the boy within, and open- 
ing the door suddenly to see who was on that 
little porch at this hour of the evening, he 
found himself, most unwillingly face to face 
with — as it seemed to him — an accusing con- 
science. He was turning as hastily back, with 
an annoyed exclamation, when his sister put her 
hand on his arm, and resolutely detained him. 

“ Joe! ” she said, not pausing now to soften 
her words in any way; “Don’t you feel rather 
small, for a big boy, going round the house in 
this way, dodging your own people, and afraid 
to look any one in the face ? Don’t you know 
that I can never respect you and that you can 
never respect yourself while this sort of thing 
goes on ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, it’s all very easy for you to talk,” 
growled the boy, submitting most reluctantly 
to the interview which he saw was inevitable. 
“ I suppose it’s not going to father about that 
thing, you mean, but I guess if you had it to 
do yourself, you wouldn’t be in any more of a 
hurry than I am. But there’s just the differ- 


JOCELYN TELLS JOE SOMETHING. 345 


ence ! You don’t have any need to get into 
scrapes ; you do as you like. You’re the mistress 
here, and can do everything you choose, and 
nobody to say you nay. Things are very easy 
for you, Miss Jocelyn, but if you were in my 
place ” 

He checked himself, for there was a sudden 
strange look in his sister’s face which he did 
not quite understand. She stood silent a mo- 
ment, her eyes fixed upon his, and then, as 
though taking a sudden resolve, she spoke, still 
with that strange look, and in a breathless sort 
of way, which made him wonder and feel un- 
comfortable. 

“ Joe! ” she said. “ You think that, do you, 
that things are very easy for me, that I have 
no temptations to resist, that I am doing as I 
like all the time ? Well, I am going to show 
you that you are mistaken, and see if that will 
help you any to do your own duty.” 

She put her hand impulsively to her throat, 
and drew out something which had been sus- 
pended from a slender black silk cord inside 
her collar. It seemed to be a tiny chamois bag ; 
she opened it with a touch that Joe saw was 
quivering, and took out a ring which she slipped 
upon her finger, and then held it up bravely 
for his inspection. 

The boy looked in perplexity first at the 


346 


IN mother’s place. 


hand with its new decoration, and then at the 
sweet downcast face, upon which a tender smile 
and blush revealed themselves in the gleam of 
the moonlight. 

“ Well! ” he said, as she remained softly si- 
lent; “I see you’ve got a ring that you seem to 
be mighty choice of; but what on earth has that 
got to do with what we were talking about? ” 

“ Why Joe ! ” Jocelyn drew the hand quickly 
back and covered it with the other. “ Can’t 
you really understand at all ? A girl would in 
a minute, Juliet, or even Janet, or even little 
Jem, I believe. But they don’t know anything 
about it ; I never showed it to them, nor told 
them a word about it, not even father — all 
these long, long months that he has been gone! 
Only now, Joe, to you, with a purpose, and a 
hope.” 

The boy stared at her still in utter mystifica- 
tion, until presently a sudden gleam of compre- 
hension dawned in his face. 

“ All these long months that he has been 
gone ! ” he repeated. “ Is it anything to do 
with Dick — our old Dick? And what is the 
need of a mystery then ? And what has it got 
to do with me?” 

“O Joe!” and Jocelyn spoke up warmly 
enough now. “ Do you remember when he 
went away, and all that had come upon us just 


JOCELYN TELLS JOE SOMETHING. 347 


before? Was that a time, when poor father 
was almost broken-hearted, and all of us feel- 
ing so desolate and bereaved ; was that a time 
for me to be bringing forward a new happiness 
that had just been offered to me alone, taking a 
comfort and consolation to myself that the rest 
of you could not have an equal share in ; let- 
ting some one, whom you all used to think was 
as much your particular friend as mine, be com- 
ing to the house to see me specially, wanting to 
take me off to talk with him, and all that, when 
the rest of you were feeling so suddenly alone 
and lonely? Or, to fill my life with my own. 
individual duties and pleasures when just then 
the whole family needed me most? No, Joe, I' 
could not do it. I could not even speak of it, 
and I sent him away without letting him speak 
of it, because I thought you would all, especi- 
ally father, feel hurt that I (*>uld even think of 
such a thing at such a time ; and still more be- 
cause I thought perhaps father would not per- 
mit me to make the sacrifice. That it was hard, 
Joe, I will not deny. It would have been 
just the greatest help and comfort in the world 
to me to have Dick around just in those first 
months when my grief was so heavy upon me, 
and when all the care and the responsibility 
of this large family were added to my burden. 
But I knew I could not do justice to you all 


348 


in mother’s place. 


and to him too ; and he had a good offer which 
must be accepted or declined at once. So I 
sent him away, Joe ; and he has been gone a 
year and a half, and I have not even let him 
write specially to me. This is all I have had 
— ” she lifted her hand again and gazed lov- 
ingly at the token it wore — “ and you may 
judge now whether everything has been so easy 
to me — and whether I have been doing exactly 
as I liked all these months ? ” 

Joe had stood listening speechless with sur- 
prise, while Jocelyn poured out these impulsive 
words, and now he remained gazing at her, 
amazed, and touched to the very depths of his 
boyish heart. When he could speak, it was 
only to stammer at first, 

“Did you, did you, J. J.? Did you really do 
that for all of us?” And presently, as she sat, 
looking up at him with wistful eyes of plead- 
ing, he broke out again, 

“Well! I knew you were a brick before, 
J. J., a regular first-class brick, but this beats 
all!” and then, with a sudden manly note in his 
voice, “ But it is high time it should be put a 
stop to. There’s no sense in your going on be- 
ing so hard on yourself, or poor old Dick either. 
You must just tell father about it at once, and 
have at least the satisfaction of having his 
letters to yourself.” 


JOCELYN TELLS JOE SOMETHING. 349 


But Jocelyn shook her head with a pensive 
smile. 

“No,” she said, with gentle decision. “Not 
just yet, Joe; not till Juliet has graduated — 
it isn’t very long now, you know — and is not at 
school any longer, so that she may learn to 
take my place in the house. 

“And indeed not until his old lady is read}^ to 
give up her wanderings. It has been a capital 
thing for him, this opportunity to see so much 
of the world, and especially to examine the 
hospital practice in so many great cities. There 
is no hurry ; he is contented and happy now, I 
think, and I am too ; that is, I should be,” she 
corrected herself quickly, and fixed her eyes 
upon the boy’s face with a meaning glance, 
“if you — if my brother — ” 

“Yes, I know, and he will,” broke in Joe, 
resolutely. “ You won’t have given me all 
this confidence for nothing my dear, good old 
J. J.!” and he threw his arms impulsively 
about her with a demonstration that was very 
rare in him, and precious accordingly. “I 
should be worse than a coward if I held back 
from what I brought on myself anyhow after 
what you have told me, and I’ll do what you 
wish this very night, right now, before father 
goes to bed. Indeed, it was hating to pain him 
that kept me back more than my own — ” 


350 


in mother’s place. 


“I know, I know,” said Jocelyn, eagerly re- 
turning her brother’s caress. “But even so, I 
am sure it is right he should be told ; and you 
will never, never , take the chance of paining 
him again iii such a way, will you, Joe?” A 
strange look came over the boy’s face. A 
deeper, more thoughtful and reverent look 
than Jocelyn had ever seen there before. 

“I dare not promise that of myself, Jocelyn,” 
he said solemnly. “ 1 did try, I did mean to be 
a better fellow when father was so good about 
the boat and all that. But I see I can’t, of my- 
self; I don’t believe anybody can. I know 
where you go for your help and strength, Joce- 
lyn ; I used to think it was all a notion ; but 
after what you’ve told me to-night, after seeing 
what it really means to be a Christian and love 
others as well as you do yourself — well, I mean 
to try again, and try your way. I’ll give you 
this promise J. J ., — by God's help I never will!” 

“O Joe!” it was all the girl could say, for 
the joy that filled her heart. But the tender 
embrace in which she folded him, the happy 
tears he felt upon his cheek, made that enough. 
He returned her kisses with fervor. 

“And now go to bed, dear,” he said in that 
sudden new manly tone of his. “I hope the 
others, have gone too, for I am going to have a 
long talk with my father.” 


CHAPTER XIV. 


A HAPPY THANKSGIVING. 

T OCELYN never sought to know what passed 
in the long interview between Joe and his 
father that night. She lay awake, full of all 
tender and anxious thoughts for them both, un- 
til she heard them coming slowly up-stairs 
about midnight; and when she met them at 
breakfast next morning she took pains to be- 
tray no consciousness of any thing unusual, 
and the others noticed nothing, except perhaps, 
that their father seemed rather grave and ab- 
stracted, and that Joe was a good deal more 
considerate than usual in the way of passing 
the muffins, and offering to take the shell off 
Janet’s egg which scorched her own more deli- 
cate fingers. 

Jocelyn was glad to keep any cloud of 
wrong-doing, and the unhappiness which is 
sure to follow it, from their 3 T oung hearts, as 
much as might be : she was content to bear with 
her father the burden which Joe had put upon 
them, and to help each other to help the boy. 
And as time passed on, they had the infinite 

( 351 ) 


352 


in mother’s place. 


comfort of seeing that he was sincere in his re- 
solve to seek strength where alone it could be 
fully found; and Jocelyn, one morning, paus- 
ing, duster in hand, while putting Joe’s 
room in order, at sight of his Bible lying open 
on the table, felt the glad tears spring to her 
eyes, as she noticed a broad pencil-mark 
against the words — 

“ He giveth power to the faint ; and to them 
that have no might , he increaseth strength. Even 
the youths shall faint and be weary , and the 
young men shall utterly fall : But they that wait 
upon the Lord shall renew their strength ; they 
shall mount up with wings as eagles ; they shall 
run , and not be weary ; and they shall walk , and 
not faint .” — Is. 40: 29-31. 

“ Dear old Joe ! ” she said impulsively to her- 
self. “ He is trying, and in the right way ! 
And here I have been letting myself doubt 
sometimes whether it was worth while after all 
to have been so hard on myself, and on Dick ; 
and yet, it was just that which seemed to im- 
press him more than anything else ! Oh, liovf 
more than glad, how thankful, I am ! ” 


Meanwhile, the days were passing on, and 
the beautiful southern spring, about which 
Janet had written a very flowery composition, 
likening it to a lovely young maiden, tripping 


A HAPPY THANKSGIVING. 


353 


lightly forward and scattering blossoms wher- 
ever she went (Joe had much ado to keep 
from muttering “ Chestnuts! ” when Jem was 
dilating upon the beauties of this composi- 
tion), this same fairy maiden had tripped 
away as lightly as she had come, leaving be- 
hind her a wealth of delicate bloom and fra- 
grance everywhere. The crocuses and tulips, 
the hyacinths and lilacs, went into retirement 
again after the vanishing of their fairy god- 
mother ; but summer had followed upon her re- 
treating footsteps, and there were roses; roses 
everywhere ; and all the air was full of their 
exquisite breath, and of the subtler perfume of 
heliotrope and spice-pinks, and great white 
golden-hearted lilies. 

Every old-fashioned garden, every door-yard, 
and even the grass-bordered edges of the streets, 
were in flowers ; every porch was wreathed with 
honeysuckle or microphylla ; the old town was 
looking its prettiest, and Jessie had run in to 
tell Jocelyn that the June apples were all ripe 
on the tree at the side of the house, and to beg 
her to come and gather some for her, when the 
morning came on which the visit promised to 
Janet was to become an accomplished fact, and 
Nan and her mother to arrive by the boat from 
Washington.* 

This arrival was the second important event 

23 


354 


IN mother's place. 


of the summer : the first had been Juliet’s 
graduation from the old-fashioned Seminary at 
which all the young ladies of Oakleigh in turn 
received their blue-ribboned diplomas, accom- 
panied by certain words of loving counsel and 
farewell, and a copy of the “ Pilgrim’s Prog- 
ress,” to serve as a help to them in their own 
pilgrimage through this life to the Heavenly 
Country. She had reached the spot indeed, 

“ Where the brook and river meet, 

Womanhood and childhood fleet; ” 

64 And a very graceful, dignified, well-bred girl 
your sister is, my dear,” announced Aunt 
Emily to Jocelyn; much attracted by the pure 
clear-cut style of the young girl’s beauty, and 
the touch of reserve in her manner which made 
some good persons think 44 the second Miss 
Jerome a little difficult: not near so pleasant 
and like her mother as Miss Jocelyn.” 

There was no touch of chilliness in Juliet’s 
manner toward their lady guest. She admired 
her elegant and high-bred relative extremely, 
and was eagerly desirious of winning her good 
opinion, so as to increase the probabilities of 
that invitation to spend the winter in Wash- 
ington upon which she had set her heart. She 
devoted herself to her entertainment therefore, 
and Jocelyn was content, even though a little 
wistful, to see them setting out, day after day, 


A HAPPY THANKSGIVING. 


355 


for drives and walks together, or making them- 
selves comfortable on the shady veranda in their 
cool white morning-gowns, with their fancy- 
work and the last new magazines, while she 
went about her housekeeping duties, which 
were naturally a little more exacting than usual 
at this time ; consulted with Aunt Peggy about 
breakfasts and dinners; trotted off to market 
before breakfast, concocted dainty desserts with 
her own clever hands, and grew hot and tired 
over the preserving and the pickling that must 
be done when the fruit was in right condition, 
or not at all. 

Neither would she take any undue credit to 
herself for having no feeling of envy or irrita- 
tion. “ I really could not. feel easy to trust all 
this to novice hands,” she said to herself with 
her usual honesty; “though Juliet offered 
very kindly to help me. And it is really a re- 
lief to have some one to do the entertaining for 
me so nicely as she does, while I am obliged to 
be so busy. I’m so glad they seem to like each 
other so much, and I hope Aunt Emily will ask 
her to go home with them. I wouldn’t want 
to be away this winter — for I believe, I believe, 
— and anyhow, haven’t I always for my own 
comfort, 

“ 4 The secret of a happy thought 
I do not care to speak? * ” 


356 


IN mother’s place. 


But Aunt Emily did not ask Juliet to go home 
with her. When the month’s visit was ended 
at Oakleigh, the visit which had been all pure 
bliss to little Nan, who had no brothers or sis- 
ters to help make the house lively at home ; her 
mother made her farewells with only the vague 
general invitation, which may mean either much 
or little. “ You must all come ; we shall be 
delighted to see any of you whenever you can 
make it convenient to leave home.” And 
Juliet had to get over her disappointment and 
chagrin as best she might. 

Of course she said nothing about it, and 
equally of course, no one mentioned the sub- 
ject to her; only Jocelyn, watching with anx- 
ious tenderness for some outbreak of irritability, 
or some lapse into moodiness, was gratefully 
surprised to find nothing but perhaps an added 
dignity and composure, and a sisterly readiness 
to take up her share of the household duties, 
and render assistance wherever it was required. 

“What a fine creature Juliet is after all!” 
thought the older sister, with almost a motherly 
pride and fondness ! “ How brimful of char- 

acter ! And I do believe she too, as well as 
dear old Joe, has found her springs of action in 
that living source from which all that is good 
in us must come. Oh, mother, dear! If you 
can only see and know — and perhaps you do — 


A HAPPY THANKSGIVING. 357 

how happy it must make you ! How happy it 
makes me ! ” 

And so time passed, and the tide of these 
young lives flowed peacefully on, day in, and 
day out, with but few special events to mark 
its course, and yet ever full of the recurring 
duties and pleasures, the small accidents and 
incidents, that were natural to their age. 

The long summer vacation was over, but the 
school-girls and boys made nutting parties on 
Saturday afternoons in the woods along the 
. river bank, and came home laden with shining 
brown treasures of chinquapins and chestnuts, 
which they roasted round the hearth of even- 
ings, instead of going out in the boat, as on the 
magical moonlit summer nights. The roses and 
dahlias had given place to the spicy chrysan- 
themums, the last of the brave sisterhood of 
flowers to brave the fatal touch of the frost, 
found blooming sometimes, white above the 
whiter snow, and even with the chill flakes 
drifting in their golden hearts. 

How beautiful they are, and what a lesson 
they teach us of faith and courage!” Jocelyn 
thought one afternoon as she was gathering the 
last cluster of odorous blossoms upon the big 
bush by the porch, and she gave a little start 
as Aunt Peggy’s voice sounded unexpectedly 
over her shoulder ; 


358 in mother’s place. 

“ You likes dem artemishies, don’t ye, Miss 
Jos’lyn,” said the old servant, amiably. “ Dat’s 
what dey use to call ’em in my time, ye know, 
an’ I don’ wondah you likes ’em ; dey kine o’ 
puts me in mine o’ you, dey do ; kine o’ sweet 
an’ strong too. But I was gwine to speak to 
ye ’bout dat ar plaguy turkey gobblah, Miss 
Jos’lyn. He ain’t got no mo’ sense dan turkeys 
has in giner’l, dough I did raise him my own s’ef, 
an’ try an’ teach him some sort o’ mannahs. 
He jes made up his mind he won't stay home, 
inside his own presarves ; an’ Mis’ Yardley nex 
do’, she jes sent in word — she ain’t got much 
mo’ mannahs to my thinkin’, ef ye’ll ’scuse me, 
Miss Jos’lyn, dan de po’ gobblah hisse’f, ya, ha! 
She jes sont in word dat ef we don’ kill dat ah 
* turkey so’st to keep him often her fence, an’ 
outen her gyardin, she jes gwine to kill him 
herse’f! She do it, too, sho’s you bawn ; so I 
reckon, long as dat ah new holiday, Thanks - 
givin’, or whatevah you calls it, is a cornin’ 
along putty soon now, I. jes mought as well 
make up my mine to part wi him, an I’ll put 
him in the coop to-night to fat him a little, po’ 
fellah ! ” 

“ Thanksgiving isn’t a new holiday, Aunt 
Peggy,” said Jocelyn, smiling. “Its been kept 
up North ever since the first settlers Came to 
this country, a long, long time — more than 


A HAPPY THANKSGIVING. 


359 


three hundred years ago. Everything looked 
so bleak and cold on those rocks where they 
landed, a poor little band of persecuted men 
and women, and they had such hard times mak- 
ing out to live, and the chances of any crops 
being raised there “seemed so small, that when 
they did succeed in getting things to grow, and 
saw they were going to be able to make homes 
there, why they set apart a day every year after 
the harvest was gathered in, to make special 
thanksgiving for it, and a very good and beau- 
tiful custom I think it is. They didn’t get into 
the way of it down here so soon, for the peo- 
ple who came to Virginia thought more of 
Christmas and Easter ; but you know well 
enough it’s been kept here now for years and 
years, ever since I can remember, and it’s just 
because you’re an old aristocrat, Aunt Peggy, 
and want to hold on to the old, old ways, that 
you make believe you don’t care anything about 
Thanksgiving Day. You do, I know, for you’re 
too good a Christian not to.” 

“ Ya, ya, ya ! ” The old negress’ mellow 
chuckle made itself heard again, but she per- 
sisted in maintaining her allegiance to old cus- 
toms of her youth and her Southern home. 

“Dunno, to tell de troof, Miss Jos’lyn, 
whethah it’s kase I b’long to de’ stocracy or 
not. Spec maybe it is, but Christmas an, 


360 


in mother’s place. 


Eastah good ’nuff holidays fo’ ole Peggy, an’ I 
says my pra’ars an’ gives thanks ev’y day fo’ 
what I gits, de Lawd’s name be praised ! But 
I ain’t got no ’bjections whatevah to other 
folkses havin’ a p’ticklah day sot apaht fo’ 
thanksgivin’ ; an’ I’ll go an’ shet de gobblah up 
in de coop so’s he kin have time to ’fleet on his 
lattah eend.” 

Jocelyn could not help laughing at the old 
creature’s comical stubbornness. 

“I’m sorry for the gobbler, Aunt Peggy,” 
she said, “and especially, as I know he’s such 
a pet of yours. But you know I’ve been want- 
ing you a long time to get rid of all this scat- 
tered remnant of poultry you hanker so to 
keep around you. It’s no place for chickens 
and turkeys, a town back-yard ; they’re bound 
to be a nuisance to both owners and neighbors, 
and I guess you had better make up your mind 
to part with them all. Christmas will be here 
in another month, you know, and then you’ll 
take more satisfaction in your roasts and your 
potpies. And meanwhile I guess, if you think 
about it a little, Aunt Peggy, you’ll find you 
have enough to be thankful for, to be willing to 
take a special day for it.” 

“ I know something I’ve got to be thankful 
for, Dottelyn,” said Jessie, who was as usual, 
hovering near her sister, like her little shadow. 


A HAPPY THANKSGIVING. 


361 


“And what is that, pet?” asked Jocelyn, go- 
ing in to the house to find a glass and put her 
chrysanthemums in water. 

“Why, my beautiful new dolly Aunt Emily 
brought me — that it didn’t get broken when I 
let it drop the other day.” 

“And is that all?” asked Jocelyn, smiling. 

44 N — no — ” hesitated the little girl, looking 
around the room and considering. 44 1 s’pose, 
because we’ve got everything, all over the 
house; and there isn’t anybody sick; and, and, 
we’re going to have turkey; can’t we have 
boiled chestnuts in the stuffing, Dottelyn? 
And, Christmas is coming — oh, and I don’t 
know, 4 cept because I love you, Dottelyn, and 
you love me ! ” 

“That I do, you little dear!” said her sister 
heartily, stooping to kiss the rosy mouth. 
“ And that is one of the sweetest things I have 
to be thankful for too ! ” 

“It is, hey?” repeated Joe, who just then 
came in by the side door, his cheeks all ruddy 
with the cold. 44 Well here’s another — but I’ve 
got to.be paid for it in the same coin!” 

He held up a letter with a triumphant air as 
he spoke, and Jocelyn, getting a glimpse of the 
superscription, grew red as a rose herself, and 
held up her face promptly to pay the price de- 
manded. 


362 


in mother’s place. 


“But what does it mean, Joe,” she exclaim- 
ed, as soon as she had got it in her own hands. “ It 
isn’t a foreign letter at all; it’s mailed from 
New York; O Joe!” breaking open the envel- 
ope with fingers trembling with eagerness, and 
rapidly scanning the first few lines. “O Joe ! 
he is really in this country again — lie is com- 
ing home; he will be here, Joe, in Oakleigh, 
day after to-morrow ! ” 

“ And the day after that is Thanksgiving,” 
said Joe, looking almost as happy as his sister. 
“So what did I tell you? Dear old Dick! 
Won’t it be jolly to see him again? But here, 
read ahead, J. J.; let a body know what it all 
means, how it came about so all of a sudden.” 

“That’s just what he says,” said Jocelyn, 
half-laughing, half tearful, in her happy excite- 
ment, yet trying to read through the soft mist 
in her eyes. “ His old lady, as he always calls 
her, who hadn’t really anything the matter 
with her, you know, except a notion that she 
was going to have everything, took a fancy all 
of a sudden, that she was tired of wandering 
about over Europe, and wanted to come back 
to the United States and celebrate that Yankee 
festival of Thanksgiving with her daughter 
here, before going home to settle down in her 
own beloved England for the rest of her life. 
It was all decided in such a flash, Dick says, 


. A HAPPY THANKSGIVING. 363 

he hadn’t a minute to write, there was so much 
to attend to ; and besides, he didn’t know but 
she’d change her mind before they fairly got on 
board ship; so he waited till they actually 
reached Sandy Hook, and he scribbled a line 
then, and sent it ashore by the pilot boat. 
You know she’s been awfully good to Dick, 
Joe, this old lady; and it’s been a capital thing 
for him, all this journeying about with her, in 
a pecuniary way, as well as every other; but 
still, she is so peculiar you know, and so very 
changeable — ” 

“ Yes, yes, I know about all that,” said Joe, 
mischievously; “but what else does Dick say? 
Let’s have the rest, J. J., please!” 

The blush rose deepened to damask in Joce- 
lyn’s cheek. 

“ Oh, only that he’ll start south as soon as he 
sees Mrs. Chumley safe home with her daugh- 
ter; and the rest, Joe, it isn’t much, but the 
rest, I think, is just for myself! And I think 
I’d like to read it by myself — ” 

She turned, in a happy flush, and almost 
running through the hall, took refuge in the 
parlor, in the curtained shelter of the same bay 
window, where, now nearly two years ago, she 
had had that first special talk with Dick, which 
led up to the still more special talk in the last 
few lines of this brief and hasty epistle — the 


. 364 in mother's place. 

first — “just for herself,” she had ever had from 
him ! 

“ Dear old J. J. ! Ain’t I glad for her ? ” 
said Joe to himself, looking after her, amused, 
but still more touched. “ And for all of us, for 
that matter; he always seemed like a ‘son and 
a brother,’ and now he will be one sure 
enough ! 

“ But where is Juliet, do you know, little Jess? 
Aren’t you glad Dick is coming home? Do 
you remember Dick, who used to let you hunt 
in his pocket for marshmallow drops and pep- 
permint lozenges ? I must go and tell Juliet; 
I have a letter for her too; and you find Jem 
and Janet ; everybody will be glad to know 
dear old Dick Fairfax is coming home ! ” 

Jessie walked off with rather a puzzled air ; 
she was not quite so sure in her recollections 
of the wanderer as the others were ; and Joe 
ran up-stairs, boy-fashion, three steps at a time, 
to find Juliet, carry her the good tidings, and 
give her her own letter. 

She was as glad, in her quieter way, as Joe 
himself ; “ How nice it will be to have him com- 
ing in and out again ever}’- day,” she said. 
“ He always seemed like a sort of elder brother 
to us all, and we have missed him so much.” 

“ Humph ! well, yes, rather so,” replied Joe, 
with a comical sort of grimace, but Juliet did 


A HAPPY THANKSGIVING. 


365 


not notice any special significance in his tone, 
for she was breaking the seal of her own letter, 
and running her eye down its pages with a look 
which deepened in interest the farther she 
went, and presently beamed out in a smile of 
delighted surprise. 

“Well, Joe!” she exclaimed, after rapidly 
possessing herself of the contents of the letter, 
and too full of joy to linger for the details, 
“ you certainly have been the bearer of good 
news all around this time ! What do you think 
I have here ? An invitation from Aunt Emily 
to come on after Christmas and spend the rest 
of the winter in Washington with her! Just 
the very thing I was longing for, and she says 
she was planning it when she was here in the 
summer, but thought it best to say nothing 
about it till the time came nearer, as 

“ * The best-laid plans o’ mice and men 
Gang aft aglee! ’ 

“ But there is nothing I can think of to 
make this plan 4 gang aglee ’ ; J ocely n ought to 
be the one to go, I know ; but I know also that 
she wouldn’t leave the house to me yet — maybe 
she will another winter — and yet there is really 
no need of both of us here — ” 

Juliet had gone on, in the fullness of her 
heart, reasoning the matter out with herself, 


366 


in mother’s place. 


rather than with her brother, but now as she 
paused, something struck her as a little strange 
in his silence, and glancing at him more closely, 
she became aware that he was regarding her 
with a peculiar look which did not show as 
much sympathy with her happiness as Joe now- 
adays was in the habit of expressing. 

“Well, Joe,” she said, with some disappoint- 
ment in her tone; “I guess I’ll go and take 
my news to Jocelyn ; you don’t seem to care 
much about it.” 

She made a movement to rise from her little 
sewing-chair, but Joe put out his hand to 
check her. 

“No; don’t go to Jocelyn just yet,” he said, 
and his manner was more and more incompre- 
hensible to the eager and delighted girl. Then, 
after a pause in which they remained gazing at 
each other, “ Juliet, do you care so very much 
about this trip ? Have you quite set your 
heart on it ? ” 

A sudden quick chill of apprehension seized 
the young girl at the almost solemn tone of 
this question. What? Was this, her cherished 
plan, doomed then to ‘gang aglee ’ ? Oh, but 
that would be too hard ! 

She checked her impulse to cry out in reply, 
“Why, of course I do ! Of course I have!” 
and asked instead, fixing as grave a glance upon 


A HAPPY THANKSGIVING. 367 

her brother as that with which he was regard- 
ing her, 

“ Why do you ask, Joe ? And in that tone ? ” 

“Because, — ” Joe hesitated, and moved un- 
easily from one foot to the other. It was a 
very hard thing for the warm-hearted lad to do, 
to dash all those bright hopes to the ground, to 
blight all that fair flower of gladness in the 
very bud ! It was not often that Juliet, his 
calm, self-possessed, dignified sister, showed 
such eagerness about anything for herself ; and 
boy as he was, he knew that the prospect of a 
winter at the capital, with all the refined en- 
joyments which would be put into it for her, 
must be most delightful to a young girl, who 
had never left the narrow bounds of a quiet 
country town like Oakleigh. But then — 
Jocelyn ! Dear, good, unselfish Jocelyn, who 
had been like a mother to them all these two 
long, difficult years, who had put aside so 
cheerfully all thought of her own happiness for 
thek comfort — was it fair that just now as it 
had come within her reach again, was it fair to 
her or to Dick either, that it should be hin- 
dered again, Jocetyn confined still by a thousand 
and one cares and occupations, when there was 
Juliet, just as old as Jocelyn was when the bur- 
den was laid upon her, and with a good deal 
more confidence in herself, Joe thought. She 


868 


in mother’s place. 


had had nothing to do since she left school but 
occupy herself as she liked; a few household 
duties, of course, but plenty of time to read, to 
do fancy-work, to come and go with her young 
companions, to attend the church societies, 
practice her music, see company, in short, all 
the things a young lady cared to do. 

“Wasn’t it her turn now to take some real 
charge of things upon herself, and give Joce- 
lyn a little chance, a little freedom — and 
yet ” 

Juliet sat watching his perplexed and change- 
ful face till she could bear it no longer. 

“Don’t you think this is getting to be a little 
trying?” she asked presently in a controlled 
voice. “Suppose you tell me just what you 
mean, Joe, and let us get it over.” 

“Well!” Joe took a long breath and made 
a sort of plunge at his disagreeable task. “I 
will tell you, then, Juliet, though I hate to up- 
set you, and I don’t know that I’ve got any 
right to either. But somebody must think a lit- 
tle bit for old J. J., since she won’t for herself. 
Did you ever notice; did it ever occur to you, 
that Dick cared any more about her than he 
did for the rest of us? No, I see you never 
thought of it. Well, he did however, all along 
it seems, ever since she was a little tot, and he 
used to look out for her. And when he had 


A HAPPY THANKSGIVING. 


369 


this offer to go abroad, and came to tell her 
about it, he told her a good many other things 
too, it seems; and he said he wouldn’t think of 
going if she would, well, let him arrange things 
as he wanted to. But she wouldn’t listen to 
him, Juliet, just because she knew how much 
we all needed her then, and because she 
thought it might make father feel bad; and she 
sent him off, and wouldn’t even let him write 
anything but just general letters for us all to 
read, because she wouldn’t let us think she 
could take any happiness for herself that wasn’t 
ours just the same. And she’s kept it up all 
this time, and never let it make her cross, or 
anything but sweet and good to us all ; and I 
say it’s fine, Juliet, it’s fine, of old J. J.; and 
it seems a shame that just now, when Dick is 
coming back, and you could set her free, that 
this, this other thing should come up — and yet, 
Juliet, please don’t think — maybe I shouldn’t 
have spoken- ” 

The boy paused, with a distressed look at 
the girl’s face, which had flushed up so at first, 
but now had gone so pale, and with such a rigid 
set about the mouth. But, at the note of pain 
in his voice, Juliet looked up and summoned a 
ghost of a smile. 

“No, no,” she said, “you were quite right to 
tell me; I suppose we shall all be told now 

24 


370 in mother’s place. 

since he is coming back. And you haven’t 
told me, Joe, how it happened that you were 
the first to be taken into confidence? Being a 
boy-” 

“Yes,” said Joe, with a sort of rueful smile 
of his own. “Being a boy, and such a scamp 
of a one, was just the way in which I happened 
to know about it. She told me once when I 
was in a worse pickle than usual, and gibing at 
her for being able to do just as she liked, and 
have everything her own way, she told me so 
as to let me see that she wasn’t having it quite 
as easy as I thought, so as to help me not to 
want to be my own master quite so much. 
But she was just as nice about it, never a fret 
or a grumble, never a bit of vanity or conceit, 
only just trying to help me. And she did help 
me, Juliet; she has helped us all, and I do 
think we owe her anything we can do for her 
in turn, don’t you? I hated to tell you, to put 
the least little bit of a spoke in your wheel, 
but somehow, I thought you’d rather, after 
all—” 

Juliet made a little movement with her hand 
to check his deprecations. 

“That’s all right, Joe,” she said, her voice 
quivering a little in spite of her resolute effort 
at composure. “You were quite right not to 
let me go on thinking things that could not be, 


A HAPPY THANKSGIVING. 371 

and of course, as soon as I heard — well! no- 
body in the world can be gladder of Jocelyn’s 
happiness than I am, or feel more how well she 
deserves it. I want to go straight and tell her 
so; she won’t mind my speaking to her about 
it now, I guess; and then, when I know some- 
thing more, I can write to Aunt Emily and ex- 
plain.” 

She paused for a moment, while Joe looked 
ruefully at her, and then added gravely, “For 
the rest, Joe, I know I am not so Unselfish or 
so considerate of others as Jocelyn is; it does 
not come naturally or easily to me to be so. 
I know I can never fill her place with you all, 
but if the care of the family does come upon 
me, I can only say I shall try to do my very 
best, by God’s help. And you, who know, who 
understand — well, what this has cost me — ” 
glancing toward the letter she still held in her 
hand — “ the rest need never know just how hard it 
is — you will help me too, won’t you, Joe? For 
indeed, it will be a great undertaking, I never 
realized before how great — and I shall need all 
the help I can get.” 

Joe stood looking and listening as though he 
could scarcely believe his ears. What! was 
this Juliet , the proud, reserved, self-reliant Ju- 
liet, asking him, her younger brother, the hob- 
bledehoy, the scapegrace, of the family, to help 


372 in mother’s place. 

her? The boy felt strangely moved; his senes 
of manliness, of responsibility, was deepened; 
he felt that he could and would help his brave 
young sister when this burden came to be laid 
upon her slender shoulders. But Joe had 
learned by experience not to be boastful, and 
he only said earnestly, coming closer to her and 
laying his hand upon hers, 

“I’ll promise this much, not to hinder, at 
least, my dear. And don’t you be a bit afraid 
or uneasy, Juliet. After the pluck and the 
right feeling you’ve shown this afternoon — 
well ! all I can say is, I know I ought to be a 
better fellow with two such sisters as I’ve got! 
‘ The Lord take a likin’ ’ to both of you, as 
Aunt Peggy would say — ” 

And trying with a laugh to hide the moisture 
that had suddenly sprung to his honest eyes, he 
made an abrupt departure to his own room. 

Juliet’s look changed as she found herself 
alone. For one brief moment she gave way to 
the feeling of bitter disappointment that pos- 
sessed her. She lifted her head as she rose from 
her chair, in a passionate gesture : 

“ It is hard to give it up ! ” she cried. “ Lord 
help me to do it cheerfully — as she did!” And 
feeling stronger, even for the asking, she too 
turned, and went hastily down-stairs in search 
of her sister. 


A HAPPY THANKSGIVING. 


373 


She found her still where we left her, within 
the curtained recess of the bay-window, leaning 
back in the big chair, her letter held loosely in 
her hand, a dreamy, far-away look upon her 
happy face. Juliet came up gently from be- 
hind and bending over her gave her a tender 
kiss. 

“ I’m so glad, Jocelyn,” she said. “ Joe told 
me, and I’m so glad for you and for all of us ! 
Dear old Dick — ” 

And then before another word could be said, 
or Jocelyn’s reply, except by the fervent return 
of her caress, the three little girls rushed in, 
Jessie having gone to fetch Jem and Janet from 
a playmate’s house to hear the good news; all 
was at once an eager bustle of question, answer, 
and exclamation ; and Juliet, feeling that this 
was no time for any special communication, 
stayed awhile to share in the general congratu- 
lation, which began all over again as the father 
came in from his office, and then qtfletly stole 
away again up to her own chamber. 

“ Mind, you get all the nicest things in the 
market, now, Jocelyn,” said Jem, with a whim- 
sical air of feeling the importance of the situa- 
tion, as she brought her sister’s hat to her next 
morning after breakfast. Jocelyn was taking 
an early start, for there was a great deal to be 


874 


IN mother’s place. 


done that day, and the note of preparation was 
already sounding in Aunt Peggy’s domains. 

“ Dick’s been away, all this time, in all sorts 
of grand places, and we must give him as fine 
a dinner for Thanksgiving as he could get any- 
where, you know ! ” Jocelyn laughed. 

“As if there were no one else but Dick to 
be thought of! ” she said. “I feel a great deal 
more concerned about his uncle : the old doctor 
is much more of an epicure. It’s for him I’m 
going now to see about the terrapin and oys- 
ters, and to choose out the freshest celery and 
cauliflower.’’ 

“Ugh! terrapin!” repeated Jem, making u 
face of disgust. “ Horrid black leathery 
things ! I don’t see how anybody can bear to 
eat ’em ! ” 

“ Ah, but when you see them come on the 
table they’ll be all white and dainty as cocoanut 
meat,” rejoined her sister. “ And that reminds 
me ; you ^hall have your favorite orange-cocoa- 
nut for tea, Miss Jem ; and what shall I get for 
you, Janet and Jessie ? ” 

“Oh, anything,” said Janet, who was rather 
indifferent to the pleasures of the table. 
“ There’ll be plenty of good things, I know.” 
And Jessie said hesitatingly : “ I’ve a great mind 
to go with you myself, Dottelyn,” the child would 
never get over her baby pet- name for her sister. 


A HAPPY THANKSGIVING. 375 

“But Aunt Peggy’s going to make pies, and 
she said I might bake some in my dolly’s little 
tins if I came right away.” 

“Umph! aren't you a lucky youngster,” 
grumbled Jem. “ We’ve got to be off to 
school, just the same as if to-morrow wasn't 
Thanksgiving. I think we ought to have holi- 
day the day before, same as Christmas Eve.” 

Ah, but you’ll have it the day after, and 
away over till Monday,” said Jocelyn cheerily. 
“ And it’s time you were starting now, girls. 
Get your hats and come on with me as far as 
we can go together. And Jessie, mind, and 
don't bother Aunt Peggy too much, dear. 
There’s so much to do, and so much depends on 
her keeping good-natured and not getting into 
a stew ! ” 

There was a great deal to do indeed, in prep- 
aration for what Aunt Peggy called u sech 
pertick’ler company,” at such a festival time, 
and the kitchen and colonnade were the scene of 
a busy and cheerful activity all day long. There 
were raisins to be stoned, currants to be picked 
over, citron to be sliced, and crackers to be rolled, 
for the regulation plum pudding ; cocoanut to 
be grated^ and sweet potatoes and squash to 
be boiled and put through the sieve for pies ; 
cakes to be made and “ frosted ” ; nuts to be 
cracked, and all possible preparations to be 


376 


in mother’s place. 


made to avoid unnecessary work on the next 
day. 

Everybody lent a willing hand to the labor 
of love; Juliet was as busy as Jocelyn herself, 
and no one would have suspected from word or 
look that she was hiding a keen disappointment 
behind her cheerful smile. When evening 
came, and brought the traveler, sunburned and 
eager, home with it, he found no lack in the 
girl’s warm welcome, nor suspected that his 
home-coming which brought such happiness to 
him and others, had put out of her reach a 
more special pleasure of her own. 

Neither, when the festival day arrived, and 
they all gathered with grateful hearts and 
happy faces about the Thanksgiving table, was 
there any shadow of a shade upon her counte- 
nance which could chill the general ^ousness, 
or give a hint of any private, personal pain. 

Onty, when the festivities were all happily 
over, when evening had come again ; when Jes- 
sie was “ putting herself to sleep” cosily in her 
bed, as she had now learned to do, and Jem 
and Janet had gone off, escorted by Joe, to a 
little party at a schoolmate’s house; when Mr. 
Jerome and Dick’s uncle had retired to the 
study to have a “common-sense talk” over the 
young people’s prospects, and Dick himself had 
taken Jocelyn off to the parlor for a less sober, 


A HAPPY THANKSGIVING. 377 

but perhaps not less wise, sort of a talk, why- 
then, the young girl found herself alone; and 
with something of a left-out feeling, she sat 
down in the big chair in front of the sitting- 
room fire, gazing quietly, but a little drearily, 
into its dying embers, and watching one red 
coal after another fade, blacken, and crumble 
into colorless ashes. 

Meanwhile, Jocelyn, sitting with her friend, 
in the curtained window-recess, looked up 
with him to the same star of evening which 
shone in as pure, as brilliant, as high, as it had 
done that first evening, now nearly two years 
ago. Suddenly she bethought her of her sister, 
left solitary to her own devices, and rose up 
quickly at the thought. 

“Juliet is sitting somewhere all by herself, 
Dick,” she said, coaxingly. “We must not be 
selfish; she has been so good and dear lately; 
and she really has hardly heard anything at all 
about your wanderings yet. I’m going to find 
her and ask her to come and visit with us for 
a while; you’d like it, wouldn’t you,” and with- 
out waiting for the rather doubtful reply, she 
went quickly out of the room, and in and out 
looking for her sister. 

“ Why, dear,” she said cheerily, seeing the 
young figure sitting rather forlornly in the 
dusk before the fading hearth ; “ are you here, 


378 


in mother’s place. 


in the dark, and with such a discouraged-look- 
ing fire? Come, we want you in the parlor 
with us. Dick really hasn’t half an audience 
for all his wonderful traveler’s tales!” 

The young girl looked up with a smile from 
which she could not quite efface the wistful- 
ness. 

“I guess you are not tired yet, either of you, 
of your dual solitude. Two are a company 
and three a crowd, you know, in some cases, 
and I am doing very well here, resting, and 
watching the fire. Just look a minute: did 
you ever see anything prettier than the chang- 
ing colors of those coals, and the bewitching 
little blue and yellow flames that curl up every 
now and then amongst them?” 

Jocelyn seated herself deliberately upon the 
arm of the big chair, and laid her own arm 
over the back of it, touching the girl’s dark hair 
softly with her fingers. 

“Juliet,” she said, gravely; “you are keeping 
something from me. You have got something 
on your mind that is troubling you. Now 
don’t say you haven’t, dear, please : I thought I 
felt it before, and now I know it. Tell me 
what it is, won’t you?” she pleaded, and then 
suddenly, “what was that letter Joe brought 
you the same evening that mine came? I’m 
sure he said he brought you one, but there was 


A HAPPY THANKSGIVING. 


379 


so much to think of just then — I ought to have 
asked you — ” 

“ Nonsense !” interposed Juliet hastily. 

“Why should you suppose it was of any spe- 
cial consequence? But — ” hesitatingly, and 
summoning resolution : “ it was of some import- 
ance, and has got to be answered. And as 
you’ll be certain to hear of it from the Wash- 
ington folks, I might better speak of it myself. 
It is nothing except that Aunt Emily has invit- 
ed me very kindly to make her a little visit 
this winter. But of course I shan’t think of 
going now ; I shall write her that there is quite 
too important an event about to happen in our 
own family just now!” 

Jocelyn bent down over the back of the chair, 
and the two sisters’ eyes met in a long affec- 
tionate look. 

“Juliet! did you really mean to give that 
up for me? Something you’ve wanted so much 
for so long ! W ell, I shall not soon forget that ! ” 
and it was the lips now that made their loving 
interchange together. 

“But, my dear child! There is not the 
slightest occasion for any such sacrifice ; what- 
ever put it in your head that there was? The 
‘important event’ as you call it — ” the kindly 
darkness hid her blushes — “is not going to hap- 
pen so very soon, I assure you. Why, he has 


380 


in mother’s place. 


only just got home, Juliet, and he has been 
away so long I feel as if I shall have to get ac- 
quainted with him all over again, in his new re- 
lation, anyhow. And there is so much to be 
done ; his uncle is going to give up his practice 
to him, you know; he says he has earned the 
right to rest ; and Dick will have to get started 
a little ; and there are some alterations to be 
made in the house over there; and here, there 
are the children to be fitted out for the winter, 
and the holidays coming, and everything. Oh 
no, Juliet; I am glad to have him back of 
course; we shall have the old nice times again, 
all of us ; but what made you suppose I should 
be in such a terrible hurry to leave you all at 
once! ” 

Juliet had listened in an amazement that 
gradually changed into relief and delight, but 
she was still so confused that she could only 
say in a bewildered sort of way, “J.oe, you 
know, he thought — ” 

Jocelyn broke into a merry peal of laughter. 
44 Joe ! ” she exclaimed. “ He’s a dear old fel- 
low, but he’s a boy, don’t you know, my dear, 
and what do boys know, or men either, for that 
matter, about such momentous affairs ? They 
only think when a thing is going to be done it 
must be done at once and got over with ! ” 

“Why, of course they do,” sounded the voice 


A HAPPY THANKSGIVING. 


381 


of one of the maligned sex gaily in the door- 
way. “ And right they are too, aren’t they, 
Juliet? Here is this sister of yours, ” 

“ Talking over Juliet’s delightful expecta- 
tions of a visit to Washington with her,” inter- 
rupted Jocelyn saucily. 

“ Isn't it nice of A unt Emily to ask her ? And 
handy about my shopping? What a glorious 
Thanksgiving this is all round, isn’t it ! — Only 
it was too bad, dear, so much of it was spoiled 
for you by the thought of such a needless sac- 
rifice ! ” 

“It was not spoiled at all,” returned her sis- 
ter. “The planning to give it up made me 
think of the visit in quite a different way. 
That perhaps it was best for me not to go ; 
might be a temptation, make me dissatisfied 
when 1 came home. I don’t believe I shall be 
half so apt to be spoiled by it now ! But 
Jocelyn, I can’t help being glad ! And I’ll do 
all sorts of pretty fancy work for you while I’m 
there! ” 

“Nonsense! You’ll enjoy yourself, and be 
happy ; so that I won’t feel selfish in being so 
happy myself ! ” And once more their arms 
went round each other in a glad embrace. 

“ Which is all very well, you know, only I 
don’t see where my share comes in!” cried 
Dick, whimsically. Whereupon the arms were 


382 


in mother’s place. 


opened, and he too was drawn within the 
charmed circle. 


When the news spread through the Jay’s 
Nest the next morning — how happy Jocelyn 
and Dick were going to be in their way and 
Juliet in hers — there was a grand flutter among 
the Jay birds; Jem, as usual, was the first to 
give voice to her sentiments. 

“ If it was anybody but Dick, who belonged, 
anyhow, and if he was going to take Jocelyn 
away, or if it was to happen right off before 
they got used to the thought of it, why, she 
didn’t know — she didn’t believe — she’d be will- 
ing. But as it was, it wouldn’t make but a 
little bit of difference, and how nice it would 
be to go and see them, when they were really 
married ! And then a wedding would be such 
fun! O Jocelyn! As Juliet would be having 
such grand times in Washington, mightn’t she 
and Janet be bridesmaids, and Jessie the little 
maid cff honor to carry the basket of flowers 
before her ? ” 

But here Janet interposed before Juliet could 
recover from her amazement at being thus dis- 
posed of. 

“ Why Jem / Don’t you suppose Juliet will 
be back in time for the wedding? I guess not 
even such good times as I had at Uncle Harry’s 


A HAPPY THANKSGIVING. 


883 


would keep her away from Jocelyn’s wedding. 
And of course she’ll be bridesmaid herself, only 
maybe we can, too. Will you let us, Jocelyn? 
Oh, I didn’t mean to make you blush so ! ” 
“Just hear ’em cackle !” growled Joe, with 
a frown of superiority. “You’ve made more 
chatter, you girls, in the five minutes since 
you’ve heard the secret than I did all the 
months I’ve known it. Haven’t they, J. J. ? ” 
A glance of humorous meaning from his sis- 
ter’s smiling eyes recalled to the lad the cir- 
cumstances which had led her to give him her 
precious confidence. It had the effect of mod- 
erating his boyish self-complacency, and he in- 
terfered no more with the joyous volubility 
which is essential to the feminine nature on 
such happy occasions. They continued to 
“ chatter ” to their hearts’ content, taking under 
review every possible point that could suggest 
itself in regard to the courtship, the marriage, 
the visit ; even Aunt Peggy had to come in, 
Mahaly accompanying, to swell the chorus of 
comment and congratulation. 

“ Laws bless yo’ little heart, honey, was you 
a-conjurin’ to fool ole Peggy? Why she 
knowed it de whole blessed time. She jes 
cotch de look in yo’ eyes, you an’ Mars Dick, 
when you was say in’ farewell to one anoddah, 
an’ dat was ’nuff fo’ Peggy ! But she wan’t a 


384 


in mother’s place. 


gwine to say miffin’ ’till oddah folks got ready 
to talk. Peggy know how to keep her mouf 
shet, but she got to open it now, slio’ ’nuff, to 
tell you how glad she is kase you’s so happy, 
honey, an’ to pray de Lawd fo’ to bless } T ou an’ 
yo’ husban’ in yo’ ingoin’ an’ yo’ outcomin’s, 
yo’ basket an yo’ sto’ ! ” 

“ Laws, Aunt Peggy, what you talkin’ ’bout, 
anyway? Doctor Fairfax ain't a-goin’ to keep 
no sto’, nor to sell no baskets. He’s goiu’ to 
perfess an’ to practise med’cine, like as his uncle 
do now. An’ Miss Jocelyn, ma’am, I wants to 
persent you with my best wishes for both o’ 
your happiness, ef you won’t think its intrudin, 
Miss.” 

And Mahaly who prided herself upon know- 
ing how to do things “in style,” could not un- 
derstand why her speech should be received 
with such a shout of irrepressible laughter. 

“ Them childern must always be havin’ their, 
nonsense,” she remarked afterward to Aunt 
Peggy. “ Miss Jocelyn, she up an’ thanked 
me real sweet, like the puffick lady she is.” 

But it was her father’s congratulations which 
had been the sweetest to Jocelyn’s tender 
heart 

“ My dear, brave, unselfish girl ! ” he had 
said, gathering her close to his breast, when she 
had come to him, first of all, with her gentle 


A HAPPY THANKSGIVING. 


385 


confession. “ You are your mother's own child ; 
and if you make as good a wife as you have a 
daughter and sister, well, Master Dick may 
think himself a lucky fellow indeed ! ” 

So he seemed to think, as he presently ap- 
peared, his handsome face all aglow, amid the 
expectant group. 

“ I couldn’t wait any longer,” he said earn- 
estly. “It seemed as though you must be 
eating breakfast once for all ! Mayn’t I come 
in ? Don’t I belong to the Jay family ‘ fo ’ 
deed, an’ fo’ true ’ after this ? ” 

And — “ Oh ! as if you hadn’t, all along ! ” 
came the answer in merry chorus. 


THE END. 






























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